


Blood And Pumpkin Spice

by decadent_mousse



Series: Blood And Pumpkin Spice [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Dorky Dinner Dates, Heartbeat Kink, M/M, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:01:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decadent_mousse/pseuds/decadent_mousse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann is a disillusioned professor at a local community college and Newt is an over-enthusiastic barista at the coffee/tea shop he's been frequenting for the past two years.  Hermann keeps drinking Newt's awful tea and Newt keeps making googly eyes at him when he thinks he isn't looking, but they've both been too stubborn to admit that there's anything brewing between them.  There are also a few other... complications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is kind of experimental on my part. It's been swirling around in my head for awhile, so I finally decided to give it a go. It's my first time writing an AU, and my first time trying to write a chaptered fic. I have a loose idea of where it's ultimately headed, but I freely admit that I'm making up some of this as I go along. 
> 
> Character tags will be added as they start appearing, because I don't want to spoil anything. Any other tags I can think of will also be added as they become relevant.
> 
> Thanks to my various Tumblr friends for being super-encouraging and supportive of my sudden descent into AU madness!
> 
> Also, check out the [cover art](http://bravinto.tumblr.com/post/99765049882/i-realized-that-inktober-is-a-perfect-chance-to) bravinto made for the fic! <3 <3

Newt dragged himself up and out of bed, groggily blinking the sleep from his eyes.  It didn’t matter how many years went by, he didn’t think he was ever going to get used to his crappy sleeping hours.  He never would have thought he’d miss sleeping for an hour or two a night – or more often than not, _less_ – but he kind of did.  A lot.  Back when he’d barely slept, he’d gotten a lot of stuff done, and now that he slept for ten to eleven hours a day he felt like half of his day was gone.  Which, well, it pretty much _was_. 

At least he’d made it to the bed, this time; a lot of times he barely made it to the _couch_ before crashing.  Small favors, right?

He rummaged around for a clean t-shirt, still feeling half-dead.  He usually worked the graveyard shift, but things had been crazy since Raleigh had been gone, so he’d been working an earlier, longer shift a couple days a week to help pick up some of the slack.  He didn’t really mind doing it, but it did mean he had to haul ass the minute his feet hit the floor – he had to be at the café in twenty minutes. 

He yawned and wriggled his way into his skinny jeans, grabbing his shoes and hopping hurriedly out of the bedroom as he did so.  If he _really_ hurried, he could probably be there in fifteen.

~

Thirty-five minutes later, Newt showed up at Coyote Tango.

Stacker Pentecost was waiting for him in the break room.  “You’re late.”

Newt cringed.  “Sorry about that, dude.  I needed to eat.”  He’d learned the hard way that not eating _before_ he came to work made what would otherwise be a generally pleasant night at work a living hell, with all the smells wafting around the coffee shop.  Getting dinner had taken more time than he’d expected to, but given the choice between being a few minutes late and going hungry, well…

“If the hours are too early for you, I’ll understand.”

“Understand in a ‘we offer flexible hours’ kind of way, or understand in a ‘I’m firing you’ sort of way?”

It was always kind of hard to tell what Pentecost was thinking – the guy had an amazing poker face.  Right now he looked vaguely amused.  “The former, Mr. Geiszler.”

“Oh, good.  I mean– I don’t mind the extra hours, really.  And it’s only temporary anyway, right?  Raleigh’s gonna be back to work soon, isn’t he?”

Stacker’s expression was grave.  “Raleigh quit.”

“Wait, _what_?  Why?”

“He’s been through a lot recently.”

“Well, yeah, but–  Wow.  Well, I mean, I can keep working these hours for as long as you need me to, man.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” Newt said with a nod.

“Alright.  If you change your mind, Chuck could pick up some of the slack.”

Newt snorted.  “Yeah, I bet he’d love that.”

“He wouldn’t,” Stacker replied, “but he would do it.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.  I mean, it’s kind of tempting, even just to piss him off.”

Stacker gave him a stern glare.

“Or– or not.”

~

That evening was pretty uneventful.  Oh sure, it was busy enough, but he pretty much had his auto-piloting skills down.  Time flew pretty fast when you moved like a well-oiled humanoid coffee machine.

The Weis had already left for the day when Chuck sauntered in _early_ for once, about as pleasant as he ever was – which wasn’t very.  It was a good thing the little shit was so quick with an expresso machine, because he sure as hell wasn’t popular for his sparkling personality.  Mako came in towards the end of Newt’s shift looking worried and distracted, but she wouldn’t say why.  With Raleigh gone – apparently for good – and Herc out of town for a business meeting with some Russian coffee barons on Pentecost’s behalf. 

By the time Newt left for the day, he had hours of time still before dawn reared its bright, sunny head. There were some things Newt missed about working his regular hours every night.  Having to hurry home at the butt-crack of dawn every morning wasn’t one of them. 

~

The next night he worked his regular hours.  The shop was pretty quiet.  Just wave after wave of caffeine-starved college students and pumpkin spice lattes – which Newt was getting sick of, honestly.  (The lattes, not the students.)  He couldn’t wait until winter – goodbye pumpkin spice, hello peppermint.  Also, shorter days and longer nights.

By one in the morning the shop was empty, which was… pretty unusual.  Not unheard of, but unusual.  That was also around the time he heard the bell on the door tinkle, and he didn’t need to look up to know who it was.  Dr. Hermann Gottlieb almost always meandered in around one-ish every night – or morning, technically.  Every night, for the past two years.

“Pulled another all-nighter, huh?”

“I could say the same to you,” Hermann replied.

“Yeah, but I work overnight.  What’s your excuse?”

“Grading papers.”

Newt winked.  “Well, sure, that sounds plausible, but you want to know what I think?”

The mathematician sighed.  “Not particularly.”

“I think,” Newt continued, “that you just can’t get enough of my wicked tea-brewing skills.”

“I hate to disappoint you,” Hermann said in a tone that no, actually, he _loved_ to disappoint him, “but you’ve been absent every Tuesday for the past month, and since then I’ve determined Ms. Mori’s tea-brewing skills are superior to yours.  _Vastly_ superior.”

“Ouch, dude.” 

Newt really couldn’t argue with that, though.  Well, he _could_ , but it would ring pretty hollow, because yeah, Mako was better at pretty much everything.  She’d practically grown up in Coyote Tango – she probably knew more about coffee and tea than the rest of them combined. 

“Where have you been?” Hermann inquired.

He smiled.  “Why?  Have you missed me?”  Hermann scowled, and Newt added, “Raleigh’s been out, so everyone’s schedule’s kinda gone crazy trying to work around it.  I’ve still been here, just earlier than usual some days.”

“Hmph.  How much earlier?”

Newt’s smile turned into a grin.  “Why do you want to know?”

Hermann got flustered.  Newt loved when Hermann got flustered.  “Perhaps I just want to know so I can avoid you.”

He laughed.  “Around seven-ish.”

“Seven ‘ish?’  Why am I not surprised to find that you’re chronically late?”

“Hey, _excuse_ you.  Maybe I get in early sometimes.  Did you consider that?”  Sure, he’d been late yesterday, but those had been circumstances beyond his control.  Sometimes people hit traffic, sometimes people had unexpected difficulty getting dinner in a timely fashion.  Shit happened.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You’re so mean.  Are you this mean to your students?  ‘Cause that would explain why the shop clears out real fast when you show up and why I always see students shooting you dirty looks as they leave.”

“They do not.”

“They do, man.”

“They _do not_.”

“Do too.”

“For the love of–  Could you _please_ just brew my tea?”

Newt picked up a cup full of tea and sat in on the counter.

Hermann stared at him incredulously. “Wh–“

“You come in here every night like clockwork, dude.  I decided to plan ahead for once.  Surprised?”

“Extremely.”  He took the top off and stared down into it like he expected something to jump out and bite him.  “It looks different.”

“Well, since you and a few… dozen people have told me how crappy my tea is, I’ve been practicing, y’know – trying to hone my skills.  Try it.”

The other man eyeballed the cup critically then cautiously lifted it up to his mouth.  He sipped it and made a shocked sound, and honestly Newt couldn’t tell if it was a good shocked or a bad shocked.  He had _tried_ , you know?

Hermann raised an eyebrow at him.  “This… isn’t completely terrible.”  That was about as close as the esteemed Dr. Gottlieb ever came to a compliment, in Newt’s experience. 

Newt definitely did not _beam_ at him, because that would have been embarrassing.  “I’m glad you like it, dude.  I put a lot of effort into it. Uh, I mean, Mr. Pentecost threatened to fire me if I kept making crappy tea, so…” 

“Yes, well,” Hermann sniffed.  “It looks like you may keep your job, after all.”

“Lucky for you.  What would you do without me?”

“…Drink my tea in peace and quiet every night?”  There was definitely something suspiciously reminiscent of a smile tugging at his lips, though.

Yeah, Newt _definitely_ preferred the graveyard shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so nothing terribly exciting happened in this one, I know. Bear with me!
> 
> It was originally going to be a plot twist, but I wasn't sure how much of a deal-breaker the vampire thing was going to be for some people, so I just shrugged, made it blatantly obvious, and went ahead and threw it in the tags even though it'll be awhile before it becomes super-relevant.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermann woke up an hour before his alarm went off.  Five am – he’d only been asleep for three hours and it was already time to get up again.  It was the fourth night in a row that he’d only managed two or three hours of sleep, and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten more than five.  He sighed and closed his eyes, determined to go back to sleep.  Fifteen unsuccessful minutes later he sat up and eased out of bed, grumbling to himself.

He got into the shower and turned the water as hot as he could tolerate.  By the time he got out his alarm was ever-so-helpfully telling him it was time to wake up.  He turned it off, got dressed, and grabbed his car keys.

~

By the time he pulled up in front of Coyote Tango, the sun was starting to peek over the horizon.  As he climbed out of the car, he considered buying coffee for once.  Something dark and bitter to go with his mood.  Then he rolled his eyes at himself, because _really_ , when had he become so maudlin? 

He walked in expecting to see Chuck, who was usually there in the mornings looking extremely disgruntled about being awake – although the young man always seemed to be disgruntled by _something_ , regardless of the time of day.  Chuck was nowhere to be seen.  However, Hermann did spot a familiar face he didn’t expect to see.

He was surprised to see Newton sleeping on the job.  The man had _many_ faults, but slacking off at work generally wasn’t one of them – he was practically bursting with energy at all hours of the day.  All hours except the morning ones, apparently.  Although now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d ever _seen_ Newton there in the morning.

He approached the counter where Newt was slumped over – his cheek smushed against the surface and glasses lying crooked on his face – and felt a swell of something that was absolutely, definitely not affection.  God, he really needed his tea.

He tried clearly his throat loudly, and when that didn’t rouse the barista, he said, “Newton, wake up.”  When that didn’t get a response, he poked his shoulder.  Hard.  _Still_ no response.

Hermann stared at him, growing increasingly irritated with each passing second.  Irritation gave way to concern, however, when after a minute or two of glaring he realized Newton wasn’t breathing.  At least, he was reasonably sure he wasn’t.  He leaned forward, fighting the panic that was threatening to well up inside of him.

He didn’t know what to do.  Call 911?  Would that do any good at this point?  God only knew how long he’d been lying there like that.  Out of desperation more than anything, he shouted loudly, “ _Newton!_ ”

Newton jerked awake with a gasp and Hermann jumped back so quickly he nearly tripped over himself. 

“Holy shit, dude,” Newt groaned, rubbing his face.  “What are you–  Oh God, what time is it?”

“It’s– it’s seven,” he managed to choke out, still breathing heavily. 

“In the _morning_?”

“ _Yes,_ in the morning, you– you idiot!”  Now that he knew Newton wasn’t dead, Hermann was beginning to feel irritated again.  Scared and irritated, but mostly just irritated.  “Are you… ill?”

Newton eyeballed him groggily, glasses still crooked.  “What?  No, I’m fine.  I’m fine.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You weren’t _breathing_.”

“Yeah, I, uh– uh–  I have… sleep apnea.”

Hermann stared at him incredulously.  “Sleep apnea.”

“Really, really bad sleep apnea, y-yeah.  It’s actually part of this whole… thing.”

“…Thing?”

“Yeah.  It’s this sort of sleep… disorder… _thing_.  It’s–  It can be pretty bad.”

Newton’s pupils were blown so wide his irises were barely visible and that was definitely… not normal.  He also seemed extremely disoriented.  It occurred to him that Newton could be lying.  Maybe he was on drugs.  However, Hermann was no medical doctor, and Newt’s explanation _seemed_ plausible enough.  He had no reason to lie. 

“Shit, dude,” Newton said, his gaze focusing on him a bit more intently.  “I really freaked you out, didn’t I?  I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright.”  It wasn’t exactly _alright_.  He’d given him quite a scare.  “Are you _sure_ you’re well?”

Newt nodded.  “Yeah, dude.  I’m good.  I’m great.  I think I’m just–  I’m gonna go in the back and lie down for a couple minutes.”  Up until that point, he’d been leaning heavily against the counter.  He pushed himself away from it, gave Hermann a reassuring smile, turned around, and promptly fell over.

“Newton!” 

Hermann rushed around to the other side of the counter, where Newton was trying to get up off the floor with little success.  He grabbed him around the waist and helped hoist him to his feet, ignoring the hot stab of pain in his hip. 

Newton laughed, leaning against him heavily.  “Well, that was embarrassing.”

“Can you _make it_ to the back on your own?” Hermann asked.

“Uh, probably not, no.  I mean, I can walk I think, but can you just–  I dunno, let me lean on you a little bit?”

“Of course.”

“I appreciate it, dude.”

Once Newton was steady on his feet – or as steady as he was likely to get – the pair of them made their way slowly to the break room towards the back of the shop.  Fortunately, they didn’t have far to go.  Newt fumbled with the doorknob like he’d lost all fine motor function and when he finally grabbed a proper hold on it, he jerked on it and it came off in his hand.

Hermann gaped at him.

“Uh, oops?”

“Wh–“

“It was really, really loose, man.  Weird, huh?  This place is falling apart.”  He sheepishly reached into the hole where the knob had been and tugged on the door.  It still wouldn’t open.

“I believe it may open in the other direction,” Hermann offered.

“…Right.  Right, I knew that.”

Hermann sighed and nudged the door with his cane.  With the doorknob – and quite probably the lock – broken, it creaked open with ease.  After that, it took very little time to get Newton to the couch – which was fortunate, because just as they reached it, Newt fell again… dragging Hermann down with him. 

Both the couch and Hermann’s leg protested loudly.

“Shit, dude,” Newt murmured.  “Shit, I’m sorry.  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied with a grimace.  It hurt, yes, but it could have been worse.  “Are you?”

The other man blinked at him like he was having trouble processing words.  “Am I what?”

“Are.  You.  Alright?”

“Oh.  Yeah, the couch broke my fall.”

Now that the initial shock of the fall was fading, Hermann realized he was more or less lying on top of Newt.  He felt a blush begin to creep up his neck.  Newton seemed completely unbothered and just smiled up at him sleepily and that was just _unacceptable_ , yet he found himself reluctant to get up.

The bell on the front door of the coffee shop tinkled and ruined the moment.  Not that they’d been having a moment in the first place, but if they had, it would have been ruined.

“I kinda hate him,” Newt said with a sigh, looking more disappointed than angry.

He was about to ask who, when Chuck came swaggering into the room.  Hermann hurriedly crawled off of Newton and got back on his feet as quickly as he could manage without aggravating his hip further.

Chuck glanced over his shoulder as he walked in.  “What the hell happened to the door?”

Newton glared at him.  Or tried to.  It was hard to look imposing sprawled out on a couch and barely holding onto consciousness.  “Dude, do you even realize how late you are?  I’ve been waiting for _hours_.”

“Bite me, Geiszler.”

Newt snorted loudly.

Chuck walked over to his locker and finally seemed to notice Hermann standing in the room.  “And what are _you_ doing back here, mate?”

Hermann scowled.  “Tending to Newton, since apparently no one else was around to.”

“What?”  The younger man narrowed his eyes at Newt.  “You’re not sick are you?  ‘Cause if you are, I’m not gonna cover your hours.”

“You’re all heart, Hansen.”

Chuck opened his mouth to say something else when his jacket suddenly made a snuffling sound and visibly _writhed_.  Hermann stared, eyebrow raised, and Newt rolled his eyes.

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you not to bring your dog to work?”

“With the old man outta town, I can’t just leave him home alone.  Pentecost said it was fine.”

“He did _not_ say that.  You’re so full of shit.”

Chuck rolled his eyes and put on his name tag.  Hermann saw a small, fuzzy face peek out of his jacket as he sauntered back out to the front.

“I can’t imagine that’s sanitary,” Hermann replied after a long moment of silence.

“He’s so full of shit, dude,” Newt muttered.  “And a jerk.  And… full of shit.  Did I say that already?”

~

Hermann had been reluctant to leave Newton to slip back into whatever _that_ had been, but the other man had assured him that he would be fine and that he just needed to rest for a bit.  Chuck had grudgingly brewed him some tea.  Hermann was loathe to admit it, but it was still better than Newton’s. 

He got into his car and glanced at his watch.  He was, apparently, already fifteen minutes late.  In another five, his students – _precious_ creatures that they were – would likely flee to the farthest reaches of the college campus, not to be seen for the rest of the day.  He cursed softly under his breath and started the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of notes: 
> 
> 1) Vampires don't spontaneously combust in daylight, but they do sort of hibernate involuntarily during the day. Thus Newt's difficulties.
> 
> 2) Max in this universe is a pug, not a bulldog. Because... alternate universe! (I totally 100% blame it on ClassyFangirl.) He's also still a puppy, thus Chuck not wanting to leave his precious baby home alone. What a dork.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter than the past two! Future chapters will make up for it, I promise.

Newt woke up with a splitting headache and only a fuzzy recollection of what had happened earlier.  He almost thought maybe he’d dreamed the whole thing until he realized he was lying on the couch in the break room instead of _his_ couch at home.  Also, Pentecost was looming over him.

“Uh, hi.”

“Newton,” Pentecost said.  “Do you remember the conversation we had when I hired you?”

He nodded and sat up, feeling kind of stiff and achy, which wasn’t… normal.  Usually he felt pretty well-rested when he woke up, but then again, he didn’t usually get woken up prematurely the way he had earlier that day.  “Y-yeah.  Yeah, I do.”

“You assured me that your… situation… was under control.”

“It is!”

“Yet here we are.  You slept on this couch like a dead man – literally – all day long.”

“Yeah, but–“ 

Pentecost continued, “When I employed you, it was under the condition that you would keep these aspects of your life _away_ from here.”

“Look, I’m sorry.  Chuck was _two hours_ late, and I didn’t want to have to close the shop.  I thought… I dunno, that maybe I could stay awake for a little bit longer than usual, but uh, that didn’t work out so well.  I guess.”

The other man sighed.  “I’ll have a word with him.  Next time, close the shop if you need to and go home.  I do _not_ want this happening again.  Is that clear?”

Newt licked his lips nervously.  “Crystal clear, yep.”

“Good.  Now leave.”

~

Newt had most Thursday nights off, and more often than not he spent them hanging out with Tendo.  They’d known for almost twenty years, now.  Tendo had helped him out when times were tough and he hadn’t had anyone else to turn to.  They were buddies, and Newt valued that.  He didn’t have a whole lot of friends – not real close ones, anyway. 

Sometimes they would hang out at Tendo’s loft, but that night Tendo came over to Newt’s apartment.  Mostly because Newt had a feeling after the kind of morning he’d had he might crash earlier than usual and he wanted to be sure he was _home_ this time.

“I come bearing gifts, my good man,” Tendo said, holding up a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.

Newt grinned.  “Dude, have I told you lately that I love you?”

“No.”

“Well, I do.  God, that pizza smells amazing.  Get in here.”

~

The apartment’s balcony was just barely large enough to fit the small table and two chairs he kept there, and a potted plant that Mako had given him for his birthday last year.  He actually had no idea how the thing had survived this long – he forgot to water it half the time. 

“I fell asleep at the coffee shop today and Hermann found me.  He was, uh, pretty confused.”

“Oh shit, what did you tell him?”

“I told him I had a sleep disorder that included _really severe_ sleep apnea.”

Tendo chuckled.  “…And he bought that?”

“Well, I made it sound like I knew what I was talking about, so yeah.  I mean, I think he was suspicious, but most people will accept a really implausible medical explanation before they’ll stop and go ‘Oh my God, you’re a vampire!’”

“You like him, though, right?  Why not just tell him?”

Newt snorted.  “Yeah, sure, that’d go over real well.”

“It worked out pretty well for me and Alison.”

“Well, sure, that’s easy for you to say.  You’ve got that whole ‘sexy, mysterious creature of the night’ vibe down. _You_ tell someone you’re a vampire, they swoon and melt in your arms.  _I_ tell someone I’m a vampire, and people go, ‘Ahh!  Kill it with fire!’”

“That happened one time, Newt.”

“Once was more than enough, trust me.”

“So, what, you’re just never going to tell him?  Keeping secrets like that’ll destroy a relationship, brother.”

Newt almost choked on his slice of pizza.  “There _is_ no relationship!” he exclaimed.  “He’s just a customer – and a really annoying one, most of the time.  Sure, he’s smart, and kinda cute, and–  You know what?  He’s _impossible_ to please and he practically oozes disdain twenty-fours a day – and it’s usually aimed at me, dude.  For the past two years he’s done nothing but order his damn tea and scowl at me anytime I open my mouth.  So, I mean, hey, I’m probably better off not even trying to go there with it in the first place.”

“Really.”

“Really.  I’m _fine_ , dude.  Romance is a pain the ass.  Who needs it?  I can tell you who doesn’t – this guy!”

Tendo gave him one of those knowing looks of his.  Newt was never sure if it was some sort of thing older vampires developed naturally over time or if it was just a Tendo thing.  “If you say so.”

“I _do_ say so.”

Tendo smirked, and it kind of made Newt want to sprinkle garlic into his beer when he wasn’t looking.  Not that it would do any harm – he had learned that one early on – but it would make it taste gross, and Newt was feeling petty.

~

Once Tendo had gone home, Newt settled down on his couch with what little was left of the pizza and popped in a DVD.  He realized he’d miscalculated, though, when he started to feel drowsy during the last half an hour of _Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster_.  By the time he realized the sun was coming up, he didn’t really have the energy to get up and go to the bedroom.  Crap, he was going to fall asleep on the couch.  Again.

Some mornings he wondered why he even bothered owning a bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, vampires can also eat and drink regular stuff. No nutritional value or anything, but hey, still tasty.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermann could feel a headache beginning to form as he stared at yet another pile of ungraded papers.  He was tired – not just of grading papers, but the drudgery of his job in general.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done any work that he enjoyed.  He hadn’t had made any grand mathematical breakthroughs recently.  He hadn’t done much of _anything_ recently except stand in a classroom full of bored college students day after day feeling just as – if not more – bored as they were.

Between his headache and his complete lack of interest in actually doing anything work-related, it took him far longer than usual to slog through all the papers.  There wasn’t a single A in the whole lot of them, only two B’s, five C’s, and the rest were all D’s.  Unbelievable.  By the time he was done he had to resist the urge to just shred all the damn things and make everyone take the test all over again.

~

By the time Hermann reached Coyote Tango that night, he felt like death warmed over. 

Newton looked surprised to see him, but pleasantly so.  “Good morning, sunshine,” he said with a bright grin.

Hermann scowled.  “It’s three am.”

Newton rolled his eyes.  “Which is morning.  I was kinda beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.  You know if you’d been much later, you would’ve missed me.”

“Yes, that would have been a tragedy.”

The other man put a hand over his heart and staggered backwards dramatically.  “Ouch, dude.  _Ouch_.”

“Stop being ridiculous and brew me my tea.”

“Rude,” Newt huffed.  “Are you always this charming, or do you bust it out special just for me?”

“I sincerely doubt anyone finds me charming.”

“Aww, Hermann.  That can’t be true.  I’m sure under that icy exterior there’s an equally icy interior.”

Hermann just stared at him tiredly.

Newton’s grin faded.  “H-hey, dude, I was just–“

“Let me know when my tea is ready,” Hermann replied, turning around and stalking off towards his usual table.

~

Hermann’s phone rang so loudly that it startled him.  Half the time, he forgot he even owned it – he didn’t get many calls.  He fished his phone out of his pocket and peered down at the caller ID.  His throat tightened, and he laid the phone down on the table.  He hadn’t spoken to his father in two and a half years.  He didn’t particularly want to speak to him now. 

Eventually, the phone stopped ringing.

“Hey, dude, are you alright?”

Hermann glanced up briefly at Newt, who was looking at him with a concerned expression from his place behind the counter.  Then he went back to staring at the now silent phone.  “Of course,” he replied.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay, I just thought maybe–“

“It is _none_ of your business, Newton.”

“Right.  Sorry.”

Hermann sighed softly and looked over at Newton, who had turned around and taken a sudden interest in cleaning the espresso machine.  “It was my father.”

Newt glanced over his shoulder at him.  “So why didn’t you answer it?”

“The two of us are not on speaking terms.”

The other man stopped cleaning the expresso machine and walked over to Hermann’s table, at which point he sat down across from him.  “People don’t usually call if they don’t have anything to say.”

“I’m sure he has a great deal he’d like to say,” Hermann replied, sipping his tea and trying very hard to appear calmer than he actually felt.  “I just don’t particularly want to hear it.”

“You guys don’t get along so well, huh?”

Hermann gave him an exasperated look.

“Oh, come on,” Newton prodded.  “You can’t just leave me hanging, dude.  Well, you could, but… you’ll probably feel better if you talk about it.”

“I doubt it.”

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.  That right there, man.  You’re always so stressed out and miserable, every time I see you – which is almost _every day_ , by the way.  Come on, talk to me.” 

Hermann meant to say _no, leave me alone_ , but he didn’t.  He took one look at Newt’s earnest green eyes and friendly smile and said softly, “I’m not _always_ miserable.”  At which point he awkwardly realized his “one look” at Newt’s eyes had probably lasted a couple minutes longer than it should have.

The other man’s eyebrows raised and a blush crept across his cheeks.  He cleared his throat and laughed.  “You didn’t deny you were stressed, though.”

“Work is stressful.”

“Work doesn’t _have_ to be stressful.  I mean, mine isn’t, usually.  I love my job.”

“Really.”

Newt nodded.  “Really, dude.”

“You enjoy spending ungodly hours of the night and morning brewing coffee and massacring tea and dealing with people who take forty minutes to dictate their ridiculous beverage orders?”

“’Massacring?’  _Really_?  Okay, that was kinda harsh, but… yeah.  Yeah, I do.  What about you?  Do you enjoy your job?”

“Not even remotely.”

“So why did you take it, then?  I mean, you’re a smart, talented guy.  You probably had a lot of options.”

Hermann wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that compliment.  For that matter, he wasn’t even sure how Newton would have any idea how smart _or_ talented he was.  His confusion must have shown on his face.

“Google, dude.”

“You _Googled_ me?” Hermann asked incredulously.  “When?”

“Uh, _anyway_ ,” Newton said, changing the subject with all the grace of an elephant trying to navigate it’s way through an antique store.  “Why take some shitty job you didn’t want?”

“Because it was the exact opposite of what my father wanted me to do.”

Newton laughed.

Hermann glared at him.  “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just–  Doing something just to piss your old man off.  That’s so _rebellious_ of you.”

“I… I suppose it was.”

“You’re pretty cute when you smile.”

Hermann hadn’t _realized_ he’d been smiling.  “’Cute?’  Nonsense.”  Face burning, he tried to force his face into a more neutral expression. 

Newton snickered.  “Now you look like you’re gonna sneeze.”

“Perhaps I’m allergic to you.”

“Do you know what you need?”

“No, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“Dinner.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “At three in the morning?”

The other man leaned back in his chair and glanced out the nearby window.  “Well, not– I didn’t mean _right now_.  Maybe next week sometime.  Maybe… Thursday?  Around seven-ish?”

Hermann’s heart thudded hard against his ribs.  “Newton, are you asking me out on a _date_?”

“Uh, yeah.  Yeah, I guess.  I am.  Yes,” Newt said, looking back at him with a nervous grin.

“Thursday?”

Newt licked his lips.  “Yeah.”

“Eight would work better for me.  If that’s alright.”

The other man was so giddy, Hermann thought he might vibrate out of his skin.  “Yeah, eight works for me, dude.”

“Very well.  I’ll meet you here at eight, next Thursday.”

Hermann was reasonably sure it was physically impossible for one person’s smile to light up a room, but Newton’s certainly tried.  “Great!  It’s a date!”

~

_A_ _date_ , Hermann thought as he dug around in his pocket for his car keys.  He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d _been_ on a date.  It had to have been well before he’d decided to move to the States, so… at least three years.  Good lord.  He wasn’t sure if the fluttering feeling in his stomach was excitement, anxiety, or his white peony tea disagreeing with him.  Or all three simultaneously.

He finally found his keys, and then not two seconds later, he fumbled and droppedthem.  He looked down just in time to see them bounce against the pavement and disappear beneath his car.  He sighed wearily.  He wasn’t particularly looking forward to getting down on the ground to grab them, but hopefully they hadn’t gone _too_ far under.  

He was about to bend down, when he saw a brief flicker of movement in the reflection of one of his car windows.  He froze.

“Don’t turn around,” a hostile male voice growled, “or I’ll gut you like a fish.  Give me your wallet.”

If Hermann had been the type of person to believe in luck – which he _wasn’t_ – he would’ve seriously started considering the possibility that he didn’t have any.


	5. Chapter 5

Newt heard what was going on before he saw it.  He heard Hermann’s sharp, frightened intake of breath and was already out the door before  he even saw the other guy.  The guy was rifling through Hermann’s wallet looking irritated and Hermann had his back pressed against his car, somehow managing to look both scared and pissed off at the same time. 

“I think you’re holding out on me.”

“I have nothing else, you cretin,” Hermann replied, acting pretty calm for a guy who was getting mugged, but Newt could hear his heart knocking around in his rib cage like it thought it was playing the xylophone.

“I don’t like your attitude, asshole.”

“Hey!” Newt yelled.

The mugger’s head jerked around to look at him, and Hermann tried to inch away, but the guy noticed.  That’s when Newt saw the knife.

At that point discretion was the furthest thing from his mind, because his mind was too busy screaming _no no no no_.  He raced towards them as fast as he could.  The guy was already moving, and Newt didn’t really have the time to plan any graceful vampire acrobatics.  He was actually pretty sure he wasn’t capable of _any_ graceful vampire acrobatics, even on a good day.

He got between Hermann and the mugger, and his and the other guy’s combined momentum ended up driving the knife hilt-deep between Newt’s ribs, but he was so pissed off he barely even felt it.  He snarled and grabbed the guy’s wrist.  He squeezed as hard as he could, which was pretty hard.  He could feel the bones grind together and then break.

The mugger screamed and some part of Newt’s brain screamed _yes yes yes rip his throat out do it do it_ and he wasn’t going to – he really wasn’t – but he did let him have a nice long look at his lengthening canines.  The guy’s face turned white as a sheet and he pissed his pants.

“I don’t ever want to see you around here again.  _Ever_ ,” he growled.  “Nod if you understand me.”

He nodded vigorously, tears in his eyes. 

“Good.  Nice chat, buddy.  Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

The guy didn’t need to be told twice.  Once Newt let go of him, he scrambled to his feet and bolted away. 

Newt turned around.  Hermann was leaning back against his car like it was the only thing holding him upright.

“Hermann, are you okay?  He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  He didn’t look hurt, or smell hurt, but…

“I’m– I’m alright,” Hermann stammered, eyes wide.  “Newton, you–“

Newt followed his gaze and looked down.  Oh, that.  He grabbed the handle of the knife and pulled it out, letting it drop to the ground.  It was actually hurting a little bit now, and bleeding, but it was more annoying then anything else.

Hermann made an incoherent noise.  “We– we need to call an ambulance.”

“Uh, it’s just a scratch.  It’s fine.”

The other man gawked at him. 

Newt looked around, suddenly feeling kind of exposed.  There weren’t really any other people out and about that he could _see_ , but…  “Hermann, come on.  Let’s go back inside, okay?”

~

Newt went to the sink and  turned the cold water on as high as it would go.  There was enough blood that he had to practically peel his t-shirt off of him.  Cold water was good for blood stains, right?  Or was it hot water?  Crap. 

“What are you?”

Newt didn’t look up from his shirt.  Man, he was never going to get all that blood out – there was just no way.  One of his favorite shirts - ruined.  Maybe Tendo would be able to get it out.  He was a wizard with stuff like that.  “I’m a Capricorn.”

“That is not what I _meant_.”

“Well, maybe you should be more specific, then.”

“How can you be so calm about this?  You were stabbed, you’re bleedingseverely,and you’re worried about your _shirt._   That is not a normal reaction!  I demand an explanation for what I just witnessed!”

“Dude, I pretty much saved your life a second ago.  Would it kill you to show a bit of a gratitude?  Also, the bleeding’s pretty much stopped – it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Most people would consider getting stabbed in the chest a _very_ big deal, Newton.”

“Well, I’m not most people.”

“Yes, _clearly_.  Would you _please_ explain yourself?!”

He could hear Hermann’s heart pounding frantically, and it was doing things to the vampire part of his brain which did things to _other_ parts of him, and now was probably a really bad time for one of his awkward vampire boners.  He couldn’t really help the weird things his instincts reacted to, but he still felt bad for perving on Hermann while he was freaking out.

He put the shirt down on the counter and took a step towards Hermann.  “Hey.  Hey, it’s okay.”

Hermann flinched and took a step backwards away from him.  He was afraid – of course he was.  Newt could understand why, but it still stung.

“Dude, I’m– I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yes, well, I just saw you snap a man’s wrist like a twig, so you’ll have to forgive me for being a bit wary.”

When he’d seen that guy go after Hermann, his first instinct had been to snap the his _neck_ like a twig, but Hermann probably wouldn’t find that very reassuring.  His brain was going in a thousand different directions trying to think of what to say when he found himself blurting, “I’m a vampire.”

Hermann stared at him.  “Are you _joking_?”

“No.  No, I’m serious.  You asked, and I’m telling you.  I’m a vampire.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?  There’s no such thing.”

“There is.”

“There is _not_.”

Newt rolled his eyes and gestured at his chest.  “Then how do you explain this?” 

It had bled a decent amount – so, yeah, it did kind of look like he’d walked out of a horror movie – but the wound itself was already visibly healed.  It just was a pink, fresh-looking scar.  Tomorrow, even that would be gone.  It really was no big deal, but he realized his perspective of what was or wasn’t a big deal was a little skewed these days.

Hermann stared at the wound and shook his head.  “I– I don’t–“

“Look, I get it,” Newt said softly.  “I mean, early on even I had a hard time believing it, but, well.  It is what it is.  I’m still _me_ , dude.  You just, uh, know a lot more about me than you did an hour ago, that’s all.”  He smiled reassuringly and took another cautious step towards him.

Hermann almost tripped over a chair trying to back away from him.  “I– I have to go.”

Newt’s throat felt tight.  “Hermann…”

Without another word Hermann spun around walked out of the coffee shop, got in his car, and drove away.  Newt just sort of numbly stood there until the choking rattle of the car’s engine finally faded into the distance.  Then he slumped against the counter.

Well, that had sucked.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermann avoided Coyote Tango for nearly a week.  Instead, he went to a different coffee shop that had opened recently across town.  Its location was not particularly convenient, but the idea of going without tea was a daunting prospect and so was the idea of seeing Newton, so he resigned himself to driving across town every night after he was finished at the college.  The tea there was some of the best he’d ever had, but somehow he still found it lacking.  He missed the other tea – even if it had been bitter and too hot, and loud, abrasive, obnoxious, and _insufferable_. 

Eventually he had to admit that it wasn’t the tea he was thinking about.

He spent one night Googling vampires and by the time he was done, he felt vaguely ridiculous for even bothering, because he hadn’t really _learned_ anything.  Some of the information portrayed vampires as ravenous monsters driven purely by bloodlust and some portrayed them as suave, seductive predators and frankly, he couldn’t picture Newton Geiszler fitting into either of those categories, or any of the other ones he found.  In general, he was having a hard time viewing Newton as any kind of monster.

Thursday arrived, and at eight pm Hermann found himself parked in front of Coyote Tango.  However, when he went inside, Newton was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello, Dr. Gottlieb,” Mako said, smiling at him.  “I haven’t seen you in awhile!  How are you?”

“I…  I’m fine, and yourself?”

“I’m alright.  A bit bored – business is slow tonight.  You’re here earlier than usual.  Did you want some tea?”

“Ah, no.  I’m fine.  I’m supposed to meet someone here shortly.”

“Okay.  Let me know if you change your mind.”

Hermann smiled and nodded, then sat at his usual table.  He waited, and waited, and kept stealing nervous glances at the clock behind the counter.  It occurred to him that it was probably silly to expect Newton to show up, after what had happened – after how Hermann had _acted_. 

At eight forty-five, he gave up and decided to go home.  With a dejected sigh he walked toward the door. 

“He lives close-by.”

Hermann stopped, hand hovering over the door handle.  He glanced over at Mako.  “W-what?”

The young woman smiled knowingly.  “Newt.  He lives close-by.”

“How close, exactly?”

~

Newton’s apartment building was only a couple blocks away from the coffee shop.  According to Mako, he walked to work every night, and Hermann would have considered that ill-advised with ruffians like the man who had tried to mug him on the loose, but then, Newton clearly didn’t have to worry about muggers, if how he handled the one the other night was any indication.

His apartment was on the second floor, at the end of the hall.  Hermann didn’t even have a chance to knock on the door before it swung open. 

There stood Newton, looking very surprised.  “Uh, hi.”

“Hello.”

“I, uh– I heard you coming up the–“  He gestured vaguely in the direction of the stairs.  “Hi.”

“You said that already.”

“How did you even know where I lived, dude?”

“I have my ways.”

Newton stared at him for a long moment.  “Mako told you, didn’t she?”

“…Yes.  Yes, she did.”

“Well, what are you doing here?”

“We were supposed to meet at Coyote Tango at eight, if you recall.  I waited there until eight-thirty.”

“You…”  Newton blinked, gaping at him.  “Dude, I haven’t seen or heard from you in days, and now you just show up on my doorstep wondering why I didn’t show up for our _date_?”

Hermann’s heart sank.  He wasn’t sure what he had expected.  That Newton would just be sitting there waiting for him to show up and whisk him away?  He felt rather foolish.  “I’m… sorry to have bothered you.”  He began to turn to leave.

“What?  Wait, no, hey!  Dude, wait a minute.  It’s not like I’m not happy to see you, because I am.  I’m surprised, but it’s the _good_ kind of surprised.  After the other night, and then you not coming to the shop like usual, I kind of figured...  Well, I thought I might not see you again.”

“I admit that I may have… overreacted, somewhat.” 

Newt smiled.  “Look, just let me go get my jacket, and we’ll go somewhere and have dinner, okay?”

Hermann nodded.

~

“Somewhere” turned out to be a small Italian restaurant nestled tightly between a Laundromat and a doughnut shop. 

Newton must have noticed the dubious look on Hermann’s face, because he said, “It’s better than it looks, I promise.”

Hermann side-eyed him.  “Can you _eat_ food?”

“Oh believe me, dude, I can eat.  I _love_ to eat.  I have an amazing tongue.  T-taste buds, I mean.  I have amazing taste buds – on my tongue.”

Newton ended up ordering several things, apparently eager to demonstrate his ability to eat solid food.  After sampling the various dishes, Hermann was forced to admit that Newton had been right – the quality of the food did indeed exceed his expectations.   

“I told you it was good.”

“The food is exceptional, yes.”

Newt grinned and extended his fork.  “Here, try one of these meatballs.”  Hermann made a move to grab the fork and Newt swatted at him with his other hand.  “That’s not what I meant, dude.  Bite it.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“ _You’re_ ridiculous.  Come on.  Please?”  He batted his eyelashes and smiled at him softly.  In the restaurant’s attempt at romantic candlelight, it was alarmingly effective.

Hermann sighed.

~

Many meatballs later, they eventually left the restaurant.  The night air was considerably cooler than it had been when they had first arrived.

“Are you cold, dude?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re _shivering_.  How can you be shivering with that many layers of clothes on?”

Hermann narrowed his eyes.  “I’m _fine_.  The car’s not far.  I’ll turn the heat on once we’re…“  He lost his train of thought when Newton stepped closer and wrapped his arms around him.  It _did_ feel rather nice.

Newt grinned up at him.  “Better?”

“You’re a lot warmer than I would’ve expected an undead person to be,” Hermann replied.

The other man snorted loudly.  “I’m not undead – or any other kind of dead, for that matter.  I have a _condition_.  Okay, so it’s… a really, really weird condition, maybe, but still.”

“Ah.”

Newton wiggled his eyebrows.  “Trust me, I have _plenty_ of blood circulation going on right now.”

Hermann blushed and Newt laughed.

~

“Did you want to… come in?” Newton asked when they arrived back at his apartment.  “I could make… coffee.  Or tea.  Or something.  We could hang out for awhile.”

“I– I would like that, very much,” Hermann replied.

“Yeah?”

He smiled.  “Yes.”

Newt was grinning again and it was becoming an actual problem for Hermann, because every time he grinned like that, it made his heart feel like it was tripping over itself.  “Cool!  Uh, come on in.”

It wasn’t nearly as much of a mess as Hermann would have imagined.  It also didn’t particularly look like the secret lair of a vampire.  The secret lair of a passionate Godzilla fan, perhaps, he considered when he saw the movie posters adorning the walls.

Once Newton had shut the door, he turned around and said, “Okay, so, uh...  When we were talking about coffee, we were talking about ‘coffee’ and not, like, _actual_ coffee, right?”

Hermann leaned in and kissed him.

“Oh, okay,” Newt breathed.  “Just checking.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter is 99% sex. It's also a way longer chapter than usual. I may have gotten a bit, uh, carried away.

Newt pressed his face into Hermann’s neck.  He heard Hermann’s heart start to beat a little faster, but he didn’t flinch away.  He wasn’t afraid – or at least, not _very_ afraid – and that was pretty awesome. 

“I– I don’t want to bite you,” Newt whispered against his throat, “but can I just…?” 

“Go ahead.  As long as you’re certain there won’t be any biting.”

“I promise, dude.”

“I’m not entirely opposed to the idea,” Hermann said, voice trembling slightly.  “Eventually, perhaps, just… not now.  Not yet.” 

“I understand.”  He pressed his lips against Hermann’s pulse and yeah, he really, really wanted to, but he wouldn’t.  He could do this – he had _some_ self-restraint.  He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and ran his tongue across Hermann’s skin.  God, he tasted good.  “Let me know if I’m weirding you out.”

“You’re– you’re not.”

Newt’s dick was throbbing almost perfectly in time with Hermann’s heartbeat, fast and hard, and he could feel his teeth _itching_.

_Don’t.  Don’t, don’t, don’t._

Something in his posture must’ve given him away, because Hermann said, softly, “I want to see.”

“Are you sure about that, dude?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Well, he figured it was better to get it out of the way sooner rather than later.  Hermann deserved to know exactly what he was getting himself into. 

Newt lifted his head and pulled back just enough to give Hermann a clear view of his face.  He didn’t look up at him – he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see his reaction or not.  He just kept staring intently at Hermann’s neck, which really didn’t help a whole lot in the boner and fangs department.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he had expected Hermann to react, but he definitely didn’t expect him to reach up and cup his face in his hands.  Newt risked looking up to meet his gaze.  He didn’t look horrified, just interested.

Newt risked a nervous grin.  “Uh.”

“They’re not always like that, are they?  I would have noticed.”

“No, they, uh– they only do that when I’m hungry, or when I’m–  Well, you know.”

“I see.”  Hermann definitely didn’t look scared.  More like amused.  Definitely amused. 

Newt felt himself blush furiously.  It was a common misconception that vampires didn’t blush, but that was because most vampires were cool cucumbers who didn’t turn into complete dorks around people they had crushes on. 

He reached out to touch one.  “May I?”

“Uh, sure.  Just be careful.  They’re pretty–“

Hermann hissed sharply, and Newt didn’t get a chance to say “I told you so” because the smell of blood hit him and his mouth closed reflexively over Hermann’s finger.  Okay, that totally wasn’t his fault, right?  He couldn’t be held responsible for a basic vampire reaction.  Right?

He felt and heard the other man’s heartbeat start hammering even harder, and he was almost definitely sure he’d really blown it this time – that he’d freaked him out – but the look in Hermann’s eyes was pretty much the _opposite_ of freaked out, and between that, the taste of his blood on his tongue, and all the sounds and _smells_ –

Newt came hard, in his pants.  Man, forget getting to the bedroom, he hadn’t even made it past the _front door_.  In his defense, he’d been fantasizing about this for the past two years and hadn’t gotten laid in at least five.  Still, right about now that felt like a really, really weak defense.

The corners of Hermann’s mouth twitched.  “Did you just…?”

Newt forced his mouth open and let Hermann retract his wounded finger.  It wasn’t even that deep of a cut, by the looks of it – it had already stopped bleeding.  “Uh.  Yeah.  Yeah, I did.”

“I haven’t even _touched_ you yet.”

Newt was blushing again.  He’d blushed more in the past ten minutes than he had in the past _forty years._   It was ridiculous.  “I’m kind of… sensitive.  It doesn’t take much.”

“Apparently not.” 

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s– it’s alright.”  Hermann sighed softly.  “There will be other opportunities.”

Newt’s first thought was _oh my God, other opportunities_ and his second was, “Dude, this doesn’t change anything.  I’ll be ready to go again by the time we get to the bedroom.”

Hermann eyes widened.  “Wh– _How_?”

He leaned in, grinning, and whispered in his ear, “Awesome vampire stamina, that’s how.”  He felt Hermann’s cock twitch excitedly against his hip and, yep, the show was _definitely_ still on.  “Come on, the bedroom’s this way.”

~

Newt’s bed wasn’t exactly the largest.  His bedroom wasn’t huge, and when he’d moved in, the idea of planning for two bodies instead of one had been the farthest thing from his mind.  He didn’t date much, and he brought people home even less – too much of a risk of the wrong kind of exposure.  He liked that he didn’t have to worry about that with Hermann, but he also wasn’t sure how well the bed was going to accommodate both of them.  Hell, he hadn’t been that concerned with comfort, either, since he pretty much slept like a dead man once the sun came up no matter what the quality of the mattress was like.

Hermann stopped kissing him long enough to glance around and say.  “Newton, it looks like a bomb went off in here.”

“Uh, I don’t get many visitors.  Sorry.”  If this became a regular thing, he was going to have to come to terms with the fact that he might have to actually clean his room up once in awhile.  He _hoped_ it was going to be a regular thing.  Hermann’s comment about “other opportunities” had kind of implied–

Hermann was kissing him again.  They staggered towards the bed together. 

Newt pulled his t-shirt up over his head and tossed it in the general direction of his closet. 

Hermann sat on the edge of the bed and began to calmly and methodically shed his layers of clothing.  He was acting all cool, but Newt knew better – his pulse had been racing on the way to the bedroom and his heart had started thudding _really_ hard again when Newt had taken off his shirt.

Also, he was blushing.  God, he was cute.

After what seemed like forever – seriously, how many layers of shirts and sweaters and sweater-vests did he _wear_? – Hermann was finally properly shirtless.  He reached for his pants and Newt stepped towards him.

“Dude, slow down.  Give me a chance to admire the view.”

“Alright.”  Even the tips of his _ears_ were pink, now.  It made Newt want to nibble on them. 

Hermann was thin – not skin-and-bones thin, but pretty slender.  Newt knelt in front of him and leaned forward, tongue darting out across one of Hermann’s nipples.  The other man gasped and Newt grinned, reaching for the buttons of his pants. 

“Do you… like what you see so far?” Hermann asked, breath hitching slightly as Newt pressed a soft kiss over his heart.

“Mmm.  Do you?”

He felt Hermann’s hands skim across his shoulders, tracing the lines of his tattoos.  It felt good.  It felt really, really good.  He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him like that – even the last time he’d had sex, it had pretty much just been sex.  This was different.  Hermann was different.

“How long ago did you get these?”

Newt tugged on Hermann’s now unbuttoned pants and Hermann lifted his hips just enough to help him slide them down.  “Back when I was still… you know.”  He didn’t want to say “still human,” because that didn’t really feel right even though he knew he wasn’t really human anymore.  “So, the more recent ones… probably around twenty-three years?  Twenty-four, maybe?”

“That would make you–“

“Dude, don’t even.  You’re gonna make me feel old.”

Hermann grabbed Newt by the edge of his jeans and pulled.  It caught him off-guard, and he went flopping onto the bed half on top of Hermann.  “Some people find older men attractive.”

Newt chuckled.  “’Some,’ huh?”  Then he laughed even harder, because Hermann was pulling really hard on the legs of his jeans and not really making much progress.

“How in God’s name do you get into these?  Or out of them?”

~

Eventually, between the two of them, they managed to get rid of the rest of their clothes, including Newt’s skinny jeans.  Newt figured whatever they were gonna do, they really need to just go ahead and do, because he was already so hard he could barely stand much more of, well, anything.  Not that that would stop him for long, but he figured after Hermann’s reaction earlier, if he popped another sudden boner two seconds after coming _again_ , the poor guy might have a heart attack.

“I keep the lube in the drawer over there.”  He slid off his glasses.  “Could you sit those over there, too?”

Hermann took the glasses and reached over and opened the drawer.  There it was.  He took it out and looked at it with an expression of faint amusement.  “It doesn’t look as though there’s much left.”

“Oh, shut up.  I get some really tenacious boners, okay?  Sue me.”

He half-expected Hermann to tease him, but instead his gaze softened.  “So, how do you wish to proceed?”

“Well, I was kinda hoping you’d fuck me.”

“I was rather hoping to _make love_ , Newton.”

“Well, yeah.  That’s–  That does sound nice, but if we’re going to do it, we need to do it soon, because if you just sit there and keep sweet-talking me I’m gonna blow.”

“I had no idea my voice had such an effect on you.”

“Dude, you could read out of a _dictionary_ and it would be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Hermann turned an impressive shade of pink at that.

~

Once they were both ready, Newt lowered himself onto Hermann’s lap.  Hermann wrapped his arms around him and sucked lightly on his throat.  Newt had to close his eyes for a second, because God, that felt incredible.  Hermann’s mouth on his throat, his dick inside of him, it felt really, really incredible.

Hermann lifted his mouth away long enough to softly ask, “Do you like that?”

Newt laughed breathlessly, “Is that a trick question?”

He felt Hermann smile against his skin and he trailed his mouth down his neck and across his collar bones, while thrusting gently inside of him.  He could hear Hermann’s blood thrumming in his ears and his heart beating hard and fast against his.

Hermann moved one of his arms between them, and Newt felt his fingers wrap around his dick.

“God, Hermann,” he moaned.  “We should have started dating like a year ago.  We could have been having _mind-blowing_ _sex_ this whole time.”

Hermann laughed.  Really, really softly, but he definitely laughed. 

“Okay, get your face up here,” Newt breathed, “I need to kiss you, like, _right now_.”

Hermann lifted his face.  His cheeks and lips were flushed and he had such a tender expression that Newt had to just stare at him for a second. 

“Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”

Hermann turned a deeper shade of red.  Only Hermann Gottlieb would get flustered by a compliment during _sex_.  “Yes, well, you’re not too bad, yourself.”

“Pfft, ‘not too bad.’  Are you serious?” Newt muttered under his breath, leaning forward and capturing Hermann’s mouth with his.

Hermann began to thrust a little faster and  Newt gasped against his mouth and gently sucked on his lower lip, careful to avoid nicking him with his fangs.  Hermann pressed his mouth harder against his and Newt broke away, laughing softly.

“Watch out, dude,” he whispered, “I don’t wanna poke you.”

The corners of Hermann’s lips twitched slightly and he said, “I wouldn’t mind you poking me sometime.”

 “Oh God, was that a joke?  Did you just make a _sex joke_?”

Hermann dragged his palm across Newt’s dick and gave it a squeeze.  “I’m absolutely serious.”

“God,” Newt panted, fingers digging into the other man’s shoulders.  “You’re so–“ 

Whatever he was going to say was lost in the roar of Hermann’s blood pounding in Newt’s head and Newt’s was probably screaming in his veins, too, but he couldn’t hear it because Hermann was _everywhere_ all at once, inside and out, and they both came at the same time – Hermann inside of Newt and Newt coming in spurts between the two of them.

Hermann shuddered against him and pulled him into an embrace and Newt laid his head on his shoulder and tried to remember how to breathe, because _holy shit_.

“That was amazing.  You’re amazing.  _Everything_ is amazing.”  He kissed Hermann’s throat and rubbed his face against it.  “Jesus, Hermann,” he breathed.

“It was enjoyable for me, as well.”

Newt lifted off of him and they stretched out on the bed together.  He perched his chin on Hermann’s chest and grinned at him.

Hermann smiled back.  Then he raised an eyebrow.  “Newton?”

“Hmm?”

“Exactly how near-sighted are you?”

“Uh.  Well, I _was_ pretty near-sighted at one point, but now I’m sort of… not.  At all.  My vision’s actually kinda perfect.”

“Why on earth do you wear _glasses_ , then?”

“I dunno.  I guess, uh, I feel kind of weird without them.  Like, I wore them for so long, that when I don’t, I feel kind of… naked.”

“You do realize you _are_ naked.”

Newt laughed softly.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I guess I am.  So, which do you like better, dude?  The Clark Kent look, or the Superman look?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m _absolutely_ serious.”

Hermann shook his head, but it was the affectionate “you’re a dork” kind of head-shake, not the irritated “you’re an idiot” head-shake – it was a subtle difference, but it was there.  “I’m growing rather fond of both.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Newt laid his head on Hermann’s chest and glanced at the clock on the wall.  “Uh, I’ll probably be falling asleep pretty soon, dude.”

“If you’d rather I leave–“

“No!  I mean, you can go if you want to, obviously, but if you, uh– if you want to stay for awhile, I would like that.  A lot.  I just– I mean, I don’t want to sugarcoat it or anything.  I’m basically comatose during the day, and I– I don’t want it to be weird.  For you.”

“Newton,” Hermann replied, “this whole situation has been _weird_ from the beginning, and that’s putting it rather mildly.”

Newt’s heart sank.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I guess it has.  Sorry.”

“…But not unpleasant,” Hermann added.

The flood of relief was so strong, Newt couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across his face.  “Really?”

Hermann kissed him softly and said, “Really.” 

“That’s– that’s really great.  That’s awesome.  In the past, people haven’t reacted very well to my, uh, quirks.”

“Now, when you say comatose…”

“I mean comatose.  I mean, maybe that’s probably not the right word for it, technically.  It’s more like a kind of really, really deep hibernation.”

“Like that morning in the coffee shop?”

“Sort of like that, yeah, but worse.  That day, I had only just dozed off when you found me.  I wasn’t very deep in it yet, or you wouldn’t have been able to wake me up at all.  I, uh, well, you noticed the not breathing thing – I mean, I do breathe when I sleep, but not very often.  Also, my heart slows down a lot, so basically, I might seem a little bit, uh, dead.”

“… _Dead_?!”

“Yeah.  I mean, not _really_ , but apparently it’s close enough to fool people.  Ha, this one time, I woke up in a morgue!  Had to sneak out of there _naked_.  I think I almost gave the coroner a heart attack.  I’m just lucky the guy decided to put off my autopsy until after he ate dinner.  That would’ve been a nasty wake-up call.  And– and I’m freaking you out, aren’t I?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.  This is simply… a lot to absorb.”

“I get that.  Uh, are you–  Do you still want to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good.”  Newt was already starting to feel a little drowsy and sluggish.

“How much longer will you be awake?”

“Mmm, not long.  Happens sooner when I…”  He completely lost his train of thought.  It had been there a second ago.

“When you… what?  Have sex?” Hermann offered.

Newt giggled, and it probably would’ve turned into a full-blown giggle-fit if he’d had the energy left for it.  “Dude, no, umm.”  Wait, there it was.  “When I’m… comfy, warm, ‘n stuff.”  _Happy_ , he didn’t say, because that would sound so cheesy, even if it was true.  He was.  He was happy.

Hermann sounded amused.  “It happens very quickly, apparently.”

“Hit me like a truck,” Newt muttered softly before he could catch himself, and he really hoped Hermann thought he meant the falling asleep thing and not the _falling head over heels in love with you_ thing.

He thought he heard Hermann say something else, but he couldn’t quite make out the words.  His brain had pretty much given up on trying to process most sounds.  Most sounds, but not all – he kind of just wanted to wrap himself up in the steady sound of Hermann’s heartbeat and drift away.

“Good night,” he said, or tried to.  He wasn’t sure if he actually did.

“Newton,” a voice said fondly, “it’s morning.”

“Pfft.  Morning, night.  Whatever.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had a chance to run this chapter by my beta-reader yet, so if you spot any glaring errors or anything, let me know! I tend to triple-check this stuff, but things still have a habit of sneaking by me.
> 
> There's a bit of an overlap between the end of the last chapter and the beginning of this one. What a difference perspective makes. XD

“When I’m… comfy, warm, ‘n stuff.  Happy.”

_Happy_.  Hermann smiled.  “It happens very quickly, apparently.”

“Hit me like a truck,” Newt muttered.

Hermann ran his fingers gently through Newton’s hair.  “I– I feel the same way.”

“Mmm, night.”

“Newton, it’s morning.”  With the curtains drawn, Hermann couldn’t tell if the sun was coming up yet.  He glanced at the clock on the wall.  He couldn’t be entirely certain how accurate it was, of course, but it said it was six-thirty. 

“Pfft, mmngghver,” Newt mumbled.

“I didn’t understand a word of that.”

Newton didn’t respond.

“…Newton?”

It wasn’t a particularly dramatic change – one moment Newton was breathing and the next he wasn’t.  Even knowing what he knew now, Hermann found it a bit disconcerting.  He kissed Newton on the forehead and eventually managed to doze off.

~

Hermann woke up a whole five hours later feeling rather refreshed and relaxed until he realized that he was, in fact, extremely _late_ for work.  He sat up, which was rather difficult with Newton still lying half on top of him and not seeming particularly inclined to move on account of his condition.  He carefully disentangled himself from Newton’s embrace and crawled out of bed. 

With Hermann up and out of the bed, Newton was sprawled out awkwardly and it didn’t look at all comfortable.  He wasn’t certain that it would matter to Newton, as deeply unconscious as he was, but it mattered to him.  He fluffed a pillow and stuck it under Newt’s head and pulled the covers up over his shoulders.  He bent down and kissed him softly on the cheek and probably spent several minutes longer than was strictly necessary – especially since he was so incredibly _late_ – standing there, gazing at him fondly. 

Then he started looking for his clothes, most of which he’d piled near the foot of the bed, but he had _no idea_ where Newton had thrown his pants, and he could only find one of his socks.

By the time he reached the college, it was noon.  He never did find his missing sock, but he did find his pants, thankfully.  He had considered stopping at his house to shower and change his clothes and find a complete pair of socks, but then he would have been even later than he already was.

Surely no one would notice the missing sock.

~

His work day went by much faster than usual, although that might have had something to do with the fact that he’d been several hours late. 

“Have a good evening, Dr. Gottlieb!”

Hermann was standing at the chalkboard and glanced over his shoulder, startled.  “Hmm?”

The student that had addressed him stopped in the doorway and smiled at him.  “I said, ‘have a good evening.’  You seemed a lot happier than usual today, so I just figured…”

“Ah, well, that’s very kind of you.”  He’d seen her before, of course, but he couldn’t quite put a name to the face.

“Uh, did you know you were missing a sock?”

“Er, yes.”

She winked at him, and surely there was no way she could _know_ , but Hermann suddenly felt like he had “I HAD SEX” stamped on his forehead.  “Okay.  See you tomorrow!”  She disappeared through the doorway and he could have sworn he heard her giggling.

Instead of sitting and grading papers in mind-numbing silence like he usually did, he decided he would head over to Coyote Tango and do them there.  He went home first, though, because he really did need a shower by that point.  And socks.

~

Newt was even more exuberant than usual – if that was possible – when Hermann walked in.  “Hey!”

Hermann smiled.  “Hello.”

He was a little startled when Newt shouldered his way past Chuck excitedly – which earned him a sullen glare from the young man, but then again, what didn’t – and all but ran over to him outright, grabbed him, and kissed him.  Hermann stiffened and somehow managed to feel incredibly mortified and pleased at the same time.  Everyone was _looking_ – there weren’t many people in the shop at the moment, but every one of them was gawking at the two of them.

Newton pulled away and gave him a sheepish smile.  “I’m sorry.  Well, I mean, I’m not _sorry_ , but… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.  It’s just– I’ve been wanting to do that since I woke up.”

“It’s alright.”

“How was work?”

Hermann cleared his throat.  “I, ah– I was late.  Three hours late.”

Newt laughed.  “Late?  _You_?  Wow.  Also, I found your sock.  I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s your sock, because it definitely isn’t mine.”

“Where was it?”

“It was hanging on the _lampshade_ , dude.”

The lampshade.  Of course.  The one place he hadn’t thought to look – mainly because he didn’t usually make a habit of throwing his clothing at light fixtures.

~

An hour later the few people that had been in the coffee shop had slowly trickled out of it and Chuck had gone home, leaving only Newt behind the counter and Hermann sitting at his usual table sipping his tea and staring down at a particularly indecipherable bit of handwriting.

“I’m kind of worried.”

Hermann glanced up at Newt.  “…About?”

“Haven’t you noticed, dude?  This place has been pretty dead lately.”

“Well, it’s late.”

Newt shrugged.  “Yeah, so?  This place used to be hopping twenty-four/seven, and now look at it.  There’s no one here.”

“I’m here.”

“Well, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

He did know what he meant, and he _had_ noticed.  There had been a time when the place would be still be bustling at two in the morning.  It was now eleven pm and Hermann was the only customer there.  Only two or three people had passed through in the last hour.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the place particularly lively.

“I think it must be that other place that opened up, but… I mean, it’s not like their coffee’s _better_.”

“Well, I can’t speak for their coffee, but they do have exceptional tea,” Hermann said and realized a couple seconds too late that he probably should have kept that to himself.

“Oh wow, you’ve been there?!” Newton exclaimed with such surprise that his voice actually squeaked.

“A… few times, yes.”

“Wow, I don’t even know what to think about that, dude.  It’s like you’ve gone over to the dark side.”

“It really was only a few times.  Their service was… less than satisfactory, and now that I think about it, the tea was a bit–“

Newt snickered and walked over to the table and sat down.  “Dude, it’s okay.  You don’t have to lie to make me feel better – especially since you’re a really, _really_ bad liar.  Besides, it’s _my_ tea you keep coming back to.”

“Newton,” Hermann said.  “I should hope by now that it’s obvious I haven’t been coming for the tea.  Well, not _entirely_ for the tea.”

The other man grinned at him, reaching across the table and laying a hand over his.  “You kinda like me, huh?”

Inwardly, Hermann thrilled at the touch.  Outwardly, he shrugged and did his best to maintain a perfectly neutral expression.  “I suppose.”

Newton chuckled.  “You know,” he said, gesturing at the numerous papers spread out across the table, “you really should get a TA to do some of this for you, dude.”

“I don’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“Pfft.  Do you trust _me_?”

Hermann raised an eyebrow.  “Have you graded papers before?”

“Actually, I _have_.”  At Hermann’s questioning look, he added, “I wasn’t always a barista, y’know – I have other skills.  So, did you want my help, or did you want to spend all night doing it yourself?”

“I–  Yes, I would appreciate the help.”

“Okay, great!  Let’s do this!”  He grabbed a pile of papers and a pen. 

“I do, by the way.”

“What?”

“Trust you.”

Newt grinned at him, and Hermann was genuinely glad for the help – although he wasn’t sure how much work he was actually going to get done if Newton kept smiling at him like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out pretty short compared to the monster that was Chapter 7. The chapters are probably going to start getting a bit meatier after Chapter 9, though!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one! The next one will be longer.

The phone rang and rang.  And rang.  Then finally, “Hello?”

“Hey, babe, what’s shaking?”

“Why do you insist on calling me that?”

Newt grinned to himself, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he sat on the couch and started going through his mail.  “It’s the law of dating, dude.  After three weeks I’m allowed to start giving you pet names.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“If you don’t like it, I could try some other ones.”

“Please, don’t,” Hermann sighed, and on the surface it _sounded_ like one of those long-suffering sighs he was always huffing in his direction, but Newt could tell the difference between genuine irritation and pretending to be irritated, and Hermann was definitely just pretending to be irritated.  Probably.

“What about muffin?  Cupcake?  Sugar?  Cutie-pie?”

“Those are all equally absurd, Newton.”

“Honey?  Light of my life?  Sunshine?”  He snickered to himself as he tossed a weird piece of spam mail off to the side – a blank card, really?  What was even the point of that?  “I like that one.  Get it?  It’s cute and ironic because I’m nocturnal.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Hold on, there was a reason I called, dude.  I was wondering if you had plans tonight.  I’m getting off early and I thought maybe you could come over.  I could make dinner, we could have a nice romantic dinner and maybe watch that movie you’ve been wanting to see.”

“You _have_ it?”  Hermann’s voice grew suspicious – Newt could just picture his eyes narrowing, “How?”

“I downloaded a bootleg and burned it onto a DVD for you.”

“Newton, that is _illegal_.”

He snorted.  “Yeah, and?  That’s probably one of the _least_ illegal things I’ve done in my lifetime, dude.”

“I’m afraid to even ask.”  After a pause he added, “How ‘early’ is early?”

“Like around… two-ish?”

“For _dinner_?”

“Well, I mean– yeah, it’s pretty late for dinner, I guess.  We could still watch the movie, though?  I mean, unless you had other plans.”

“I did have other plans – it’s called ‘sleeping.’”

“Pfft, sleep.  You’re never asleep at two in the morning.  Besides, you could always sleep here.  I mean, if you want.  I gave you the spare key for a reason, y’know.”

He got up and walked over to the fridge and grabbed a plastic water bottle he’d repurposed for blood.  He’d had to put a little label on it that said “BLOOD” in bold capital letters after one night Hermann had almost drank some by accident when he’d been looking for the cranberry juice which was kept in an _entirely different_ – but yeah, okay, pretty similar-looking – bottle.

“The problem with that,” Hermann replied, “is that I rarely _sleep_ when I’m at your apartment.”

Newt grinned to himself as he sipped from the bottle.  “That is not my fault, dude.”

“I have to go.  I have work to do.”  There was a long pause, and then, “I’ll see you at two.”

Success!  Really, he had known Hermann wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of a movie and couch cuddles.  Newt could be pretty irresistible when he put his mind to it.  “I’ll be here, babe.”

Hermann sighed loudly and hung up.

~

Newt only worked from nine-thirty to one-thirty that night.  He’d been tempted to just take the whole night off – he never got sick, so he had a ton of sick leave saved up – but he felt bad about doing that when the shop was still short-handed.  He was the only one working that night, which never would worked a few years back, but business had been really slow.  Pentecost hadn’t even minded when Newt asked if it’d be okay if he closed up a little early which was kind of _weird_.

He really was starting to worry.  Not about his job, really, he had some money saved up, but… Coyote Tango was kind of like his home.  He liked it there, he liked his co-workers – yes, even Chuck, who was actually an okay kid when he wasn’t being a little shit – and Pentecost was a pretty awesome boss, considering he tolerated things like Newt’s tattoos and was always understanding about the no daytime hours thing.  Coffee shops came and went, sure, Newt was fifty-eight, he understood the whole “change is inevitable” thing, but it would still suck if Coyote Tango went out of business.  With coffee that good, they deserved at least another decade or two.

By the time one-thirty came around – okay, it was one-twenty-eight – Newt was outside, locking up the front door and feeling really, really eager to get back to his apartment.  Sure, it was late for dinner, but he kind of wanted to get there a little early and fix something nice, anyway.  He’d been watching a lot of cooking shows lately trying to learn how to cook something more impressive than pancakes and grilled cheese sandwiches.

With the shop locked up for the night, Newt turned around to make his way home, and abruptly came face-to-face with a familiar-looking bald woman.  Wow, where’d she even come from?  He hadn’t even heard her come up behind him.  Before he could finish thinking _hey don’t I know you?_ and _oh crap_ , she laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.

“Hannibal Chau sends his warmest regards, Dr. Geiszler,” she said, and it sounded awfully serene for what he was pretty sure was a death threat considering the name “Hannibal Chau” was right at the top of his “people to run away from really fast” list.

“You can tell him to go fuck himself,” is what he planned on saying in a cool, bad-ass fashion, but all that came out was a sort of choking sound.  Oh hey, there was a stake sticking out of his chest.  Where had that come from?

She was still smiling at him as she tightened her grip and drove the stake in deeper, and then she was gone.  He hadn’t even seen her leave, she just wasn’t _there_ anymore, and he wasn’t sure if she had just ran off really, really fast or if maybe he’d zoned out for minute there, because the sharpened length of wood he was impaled on was kind of distracting.

Yeah, that was definitely not good.  He wasn’t sure what to do.  Pull it out, maybe?  That seemed like a good way to bleed to death and die, but then again leaving it in there didn’t seem like it was going to be very healthy in the long run, either.  He staggered into the alley behind the coffee shop and leaned against the wall.  _Okay_ , he thought, _I can do this_.  He wrapped a shaking hand around the end the stake and pulled, and oh shit, it hurt.  It hurt really, really bad.  The stake pulled free with a sort of sucking sound, as though it were really reluctant to let go of his insides.  Then he was bleeding – shit, he was bleeding _a lot_ , maybe that hadn’t been such a great idea, after all.

He didn’t remember sliding down the wall, but he must have at some point, because he was on the ground now.  He wanted to get up, but he couldn’t move.  He was going to be late for his date, he realized.  Really, really late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a terrible person. You guys still love me, right? ...Right?


	10. Chapter 10

By two-thirty Newton hadn’t shown up at the apartment.  By three there was still no sign of him, and Hermann was beginning to get annoyed.  He was not unreasonable, but if Newton was going to be late he could have at least had the decency to call and let him know.  He got out his cell phone and hit the speed-dial.  Newton didn’t answer which was… unusual.  Even when he was working, he had a bad habit of leaving his phone on at maximum volume and always answering it. 

Hermann wasn’t _concerned_ , exactly, but he decided to drive over to Coyote Tango to retrieve his boyfriend.  If Newt was already on his way home, Hermann would likely drive by him on the way there, at which point he could pick him up and give him a piece of his mind, and if he was still at work, Hermann would go in there and… well, give him a piece of his mind.  He was extremely annoyed and not _at all_ concerned.

~

He knew something was wrong the second he pulled up in front of the coffee shop.  There was blood on the pavement right outside the front door.  When he got out of the car, he saw that there was, in fact, a trail of it leading down the sidewalk and disappearing around the corner that led to the alley along the back of the shop.  Stomach knotted with dread, he followed it. 

Between the deep shadows of the alley and the fact that he was partially obscured by a dumpster, Hermann didn’t see Newton until he was almost right on top of him.  He was slumped against the wall, shirt soaked red.  Not too far from him lay a sharp piece of wood which, if Hermann had to guess, is what he had been stabbed with, since a good three-quarters of its length was coated in blood.

Hermann dropped to his knees beside him, ignoring the sharp, angry stab of pain in his hip.  He reached out, hands briefly hovering helplessly over the ragged wound in Newt’s chest before gently grasping him by the shoulders.  “Newton!”

He didn’t respond – of course, he didn’t.  Between the trail of blood Hermann had followed, the heavier splatters in the alley, and the amount that had drenched his shirt, Newton had lost what had to be a dangerous quantity of blood.  That wasn’t even taking into consideration the _hole_ in his chest where he’d been stabbed.

He pressed his fingers to the side of Newton’s neck, desperately searching for a pulse and not finding one.  His hands were trembling as he reached up to cup his face.  “You _insufferable_ man.  If you die, I’ll never forgive you.”  That would usually be Newton’s cue for a witty remark or a painful joke, and shoot Hermann one of those grins of his that either made him want to strangle or kiss him – or occasionally both.  Newton did none of those things now, however, because he was dead.

Hermann just sat there for awhile, holding Newt’s face in his hands.  His skin felt cold and clammy.  He was usually so warm.  On a particularly cold night last week, he had joked about being Hermann’s personal portable heater and Hermann had rolled his eyes, but they had spent the whole night outside looking at stars and with Newt’s arms around him, Hermann had stayed warm.

A loud tune startled Hermann out of his reverie.  He wiped at his eyes and looked around, trying to ascertain the source of the sound.  It took him a moment to place where it was coming from.  He reached into one of the pockets of Newton’s jacket and fished out his cell phone.  The caller ID said “Tendo Choi.”  It took him a moment to remember where he knew the name from – he was Newton’s friend.

Hermann drew in a shaky breath and answered the phone.  “Hello?”

“Who is this?” the voice on the other end of the line asked suspiciously.

“This is Hermann.  I– I’m Newton’s–“

He heard a sigh of relief.  “Oh, yeah.  I know who you are.  Hey, is Newt there?  I need to talk to him.  It’s really important.”

“He’s– he’s not–“

“What is it?  Did something happen?”

“He’s dead.”  Saying it out loud suddenly made it real.  He couldn’t breathe.  Newton was dead, and he couldn’t breathe.

“Look,” Tendo said, “I need you to hold it together.  Can you do that for me?”

Hermann forced himself to breathe slowly, in and out.  He nodded, then realized Tendo couldn’t see it.  “Yes.  Yes, I can do that.”

“Okay.  What happened, exactly?”

“We were supposed to meet at his apartment and when he was late, I came to the coffee shop to see what was keeping him.  That’s when I found him.  He… he was stabbed.  In the heart.  With a shaft of wood.”

“Shit.  Shit, okay.  Is the stake still in there?”

Hermann had hesitated to call the weapon he’d seen a stake, because the notion that someone had jammed a wooden stake through Newton’s heart like a scene out of a horror movie seemed so absurd.  “No.  It was already out when I got here.  I think he must have pulled it out before he…”

“Are you sure he’s dead?”

“He isn’t breathing, and he has no pulse.  That is usually a rather clear indication that someone is dead.”

“Look, you’ve slept with him, right?”

Hermann had a brief, slightly hysterical moment of indignation.  “I don’t see how that is any of your–“

“Buddy, you really need to calm down,” Tendo said, sounding remarkably calm himself for a person who was just told his best friend was dead.  “What I meant was: you know he hibernates during the day, right?  I mean, you’ve seen it?  You know what it’s like?”

“Yes.”

“If he’s gone into it, you probably wouldn’t have been able to get a pulse.”

“Dawn is still hours away, Mr. Choi.”

“Yeah, but if he got hurt badly enough, it might’ve triggered it.”

Hermann’s breath caught in his throat.  When he was capable of speaking again, he said, “Hold on a moment.”

“Yeah,” Tendo replied.  “Yeah, okay.”

He laid the phone gently on the ground and looked at Newt.  Mindful of the area around the wound, Hermann leaned forward and laid his ear against Newton’s chest.  Thirty seconds went by, then forty.  He closed his eyes and sighed.  He was about to pull away when he heard a very belated thump.  It didn’t sound quite right – which was understandable given Newton’s injury – but it was definitely there.

He pulled away and picked the phone back up.  “Mr. Choi?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“He’s alive.”

Tendo let out a sigh of relief.  “I’m in my car and on my way.  Just sit tight, okay?  I’ll be there soon.”

He hung up and put the phone away, then gently pulled Newton into an embrace and kissed the top of his head.  “Just hold on, Newton.  Stay with me.”

Not long afterward, a car screeched to an abrupt stop at the mouth of the alley and a man got out of the car.  Tendo, Hermann presumed.

“I got here as quick as I could.  How’s he doing?”

“Not well, I don’t think.  He– he isn’t healing.”

Tendo crouched down beside them.  “Oh, buddy,” he said softly.  “Come on, let’s get you home.”

~

Hermann opened the door to the apartment and let Tendo go in ahead of him, carrying Newt in his arms. 

“Who would do this?” Hermann asked. 

“I can think of a couple people,” Tendo replied grimly.  “Especially since I’m pretty sure I got mail from one of them today.  That’s why I called.  I was gonna ask him if he’d gotten anything, but by the looks of it I’d say he was definitely on the receiving end of a message.”

Hermann anxiously followed Tendo into the bedroom, “Is he going to be alright?”

Tendo laid Newt on the bed and hesitated before saying, “I don’t know.”

Hermann’s grip on his cane tightened.  “You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?  I am not in the mood to be lied to, Mr. Choi.”

Tendo shot him a glare that was probably aiming for annoyed but only managed to look tired.  “Honestly?”

“I would rather you be honest with me, yes.”

“I think it’s a miracle that he’s held on this long.  I’ve known older, stronger vampires that have died within minutes of getting staked.  So like I said, I don’t know.  I don’t know if he’s going to make it, because I don’t know how the hell he’s still alive.”

“Yes, well,” Hermann replied, eyes stinging, “if anyone’s too stubborn to die, it would be Newton.”

Tendo laughed softly.  “Brother, don’t even get me started.  You’ve only had to deal with him a couple of years – try a couple of _decades_.”  He ran his hands over his face and sighed.  “Okay, he’s lost a lost of blood, so we’re gonna have to try to feed him.  You go get that blood he keeps in the fridge and I’ll clean him up and try to see how bad the damage is.”

Hermann nodded and hurried to the small area of the apartment that only vaguely resembled a kitchen and jerked the refrigerator door open so hard that it made the shelves inside rattle.  The contents had been a mess last time Hermann had looked, but since then Newton had arranged his bottles of blood in neat, easily recognizable rows separate from the rest of the beverages.  He must have done it after that fiasco with the cranberry juice.  Hermann shoved the thought out of his mind and focused on the matter at hand, because he felt like he was perilously close to having an emotional breakdown.  He grabbed as many of the bottles as he could carry without dropping them and hurried back to the bedroom.

When he got back, Newton’s jacket was lying on the floor near the closet and his t-shirt – what was left of it – was a shredded, bloody pile at Tendo’s feet.

In response to Hermann’s raised eyebrow, Tendo said, “I was having trouble getting it off.”

“He’s not going to be happy about that.”

“As long as he’s around to be cranky about it later, I don’t care.  Here, give me one of those.”

Hermann handed a bottle to Tendo.  “How are you going to get him to drink it?”

“Well, I’m hoping the taste of blood will wake him up enough to get him drinking, but…”

“But…?”

“If he doesn’t start healing once he wakes up, we’re gonna have a problem.  I think his body slowing down might be the only thing that’s kept him alive this long, but we can’t leave him like this either, so… things are about to either go really well or really bad in a minute.”

Hermann sat on the edge of the bed and held one of Newton’s hands as Tendo lifted the bottle to his lips. 

Tendo tilted the bottle just enough for the blood to trickle steadily into Newton’s mouth.  “Come on, buddy.”

Newt’s fingers twitched slightly against Hermann’s palm. 

“Newton?”

He coughed and sputtered to life, breathing ragged and uneven.

“I know you’re in a lot of pain, brother,” Tendo said in a soothing tone, “but you have to drink.  Come on, Newt.”

Hermann saw a brief glimpse of Newton’s fangs as his mouth locked onto the bottle.  He seemed to be having some difficulty swallowing, but he was doing it – he was drinking.  His eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open, and he made a low, desperate noise in the back of his throat that didn’t sound entirely human.

Hermann glanced at his chest.  It wasn’t healing.  It was, however, bleeding again – severely. 

“Shit,” Tendo said, which seemed like a bit of an understatement.  He grabbed a handful of the bed sheets and pressed it against the wound.  “Here, hold this.”

Hermann reached over with both hands and held the sheets in place. 

Tendo stood up, a grim look on his face.  “Look, stay here with him, okay?  I’ll be back.”

“What?!” Hermann exclaimed.  “Where are you going?!”

“He needs something fresher and stronger than week-old pig’s blood, and I’m gonna go get it.  I’ll get back as fast as I can.”  He went running out of the room before Hermann could protest.

Hermann cursed softly under his breath and pressed his hands tighter against Newton’s chest.  The sheets were quickly soaking through with blood.

“H-hey, babe,” a voice croaked weakly.

Startled, he glanced up from the bloody sheets and found Newton was looking at him, green eyes barely cracked open.  “Newton?”

 “I– I don’t–“  He stopped for a moment, breath coming in shallow gasps.  “’m not feelin’ so good.  Just… just gonna…”

“It’s going to be alright, love.  It’s going to be alright.”

“Love you, too,” Newt murmured, eyes fluttering shut again.

Hermann’s heart almost stopped.  “Newton?”

There was no response.  He had lost consciousness again – or worse.  Hermann was struck with an idea.  Newton’s condition was deteriorating fast and he had a terrible feeling that Tendo wasn’t going to get back in time.

He shifted his position on the bed slightly and tentatively lifted one of his wrists up to Newton’s mouth.  His fangs were still extended, so Hermann steeled himself and pressed his flesh against them.  It was an awkward angle, he wasn’t able to do much more than lightly scratch himself on them.  For several long, agonizing seconds, nothing happened.

He was caught off-guard when Newt suddenly bit him.  He had expected it to hurt, but he had perhaps underestimated just _how much_ it was going to hurt.  Newton’s fangs sank in as deeply as they would go, and he bit down hard enough that Hermann could feel the rest of his teeth digging into his flesh.  His mouth locked tightly around the wound and sucked hungrily at it.  Before long, Hermann began to feel light-headed and tried to pull free, but Newton gripped his arm with both hands and growled.

“Newton,” he said, “you’re hurting me.”

The other man’s eyes snapped opened and he looked directly at him, but it was like he wasn’t really _seeing_ him.  For the first time since that night in the coffee shop, Hermann felt a cold shiver of fear run down his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I did not originally intend for there to be another evil cliffhanger, that's just how things ended up working out. I'M SORRY, GUYS.


	11. Chapter 11

Everything felt too bright and sharp and fuzzy and blurry all at the same time.  He felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest and it was a struggle just to breathe, and it _hurt_ , and that seemed like a whole lot of effort to put into something that just really hurt a lot, so he kind of wanted to stop.  He kind of wanted to sleep.  He wasn’t even sure why he was awake, or if he even was awake, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t dreaming – his dreams were usually a little more creative than this.

God, he was thirsty.  His whole body was screaming at him to get up, get up and find something to sink his teeth into, but he couldn’t, because an elephant was still sitting on him.  He could smell blood, though.  Most of it was his and he wasn’t sure why, but he could smell someone else, too.  Then suddenly he could _taste_ someone else, and he bit down and nothing else mattered at that point.  Blood poured into his mouth and exploded across his tongue and down his throat and _yes yes yes_ , that was good, that was perfect, he wanted more of that. 

Someone said something, but he couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood.  When his food tried to pull away he made an angry, frustrated noise and sank his teeth in deeper.  The blood started pumping harder and faster, a frantic heartbeat hammering in his ears, and he was suddenly having a hard time trying to swallow it all. 

Then something hit him in the chest, hard, and oh shit, that hurt.  He jerked away reflexively with a yelp, and fell off of something, but he couldn’t tell what – everything was just a blur of harsh light and noise and everything _hurt_.  He staggered against what he thought might be a wall, gasping for breath, because whatever the hell had hit him had knocked the wind out of him. 

“Newton,” a voice said.  “Newton, I’m sorry.  Are you–“ 

A vague shape attached to the voice moved towards him, and he growled threateningly, because he couldn’t quite manage words and he was scared and hurting and the elephant sitting on his chest felt like something smaller and sharper.  He was breathing too fast, too much, not enough, and what little he could make out of the room swirled around him dizzily then went black.

“I’ll get him back onto the bed,” a voice said.  “After what happened, I think you should probably–“

“I am _not_ leaving, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” another voice snapped.

Newt felt hands grab and lift him and he didn’t panic until he got laid out on what was definitely not a bed.  It felt cold and hard, like metal.  He opened his eyes and this time he could see a lot better.  He kind of wished he couldn’t.  He saw the familiar curves of tubes and jars with various organs floating in them.  It didn’t make any sense.  He couldn’t be here again.  This couldn’t be _real_.

He tried to sit up, but steel clamps kept him pinned to the table by his wrists and ankles.  Around the table were several people wearing face masks and surgical gloves.  One leaned over him with a scalpel.

“Don’t,” he whispered.  “Please, don’t.”

“It’s nothing personal, kid,” a familiar voice said from somewhere just outside of view.  “Just business.”

The scalpel cut into his flesh.

Newt catapulted upright and he was back in his bedroom, on his bed.  He sat there, breathing heavily, feeling really, _really_ confused and disoriented.  He wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten to his bedroom – his last clear memory before everything got weird was locking Coyote Tango up for the night, and he wasn’t really sure how much of the rest had actually happened.  A hand touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Newton?  Newton, it’s alright.”

“…Hermann?” 

“Yes, it’s me.”

Newt let Hermann gently pull him into an embrace because he felt really tired even though he’d been asleep – or at least, he _thought_ he’d been asleep, then again he didn’t usually wake up that violently, that was definitely not normal.  His chest felt tight and sore, and he couldn’t stop shaking. 

“How do you feel?”

“Like crap,” Newt muttered, laying his head on Hermann’s shoulder. 

“Are you in any pain?”

“A little bit, yeah.  What happened?”

“You were stabbed.  You don’t remember?”

He did remember, but it was kind of fuzzy, and he’d half-thought it had just been part of that bizarre dream he’d been having a second ago.  “Oh.  That actually happened?”

“Yes, that actually happened.”

He chuckled, and his chest twinged hard enough that he had to take a second to catch his breath.  “Guess that explains why I kinda feel like someone jabbed me in the chest with a stake, huh?”  Hermann made a soft, distressed noise and Newt looked up in alarm.  “Dude, are you okay?”

“Am _I_ okay?  Newton, you almost _died_.  You have been in and out of consciousness – mostly out – for days.”

“Wh– Days?  How many days?”

“Three,” Hermann sighed.  “Well, closer to four now, I suppose.”

“Holy shit.  It– it didn’t feel like that long.”

“You weren’t awake for most of it, and when you were, you… weren’t entirely yourself.”

Newt snorted.  “I didn’t say or do anything embarrassing, did I?” 

“No.  Well, no more than usual, at any rate.”  It wasn’t exactly a _lie_ – at least he didn’t think it was – but Hermann’s heartbeat sped up just enough that Newt was suspicious.

“Hermann, seriously, though.  I didn’t do anything, did I?” 

The other man kissed him lightly on the forehead.  “Nothing of consequence.” 

“Oh, sure, ‘nothing of consequence’ now, then in a year you’ll bust out photos of me with my underwear on my head or something.”

Hermann laid back and dragged Newt down with him.  Newt wanted to protest, because he’d slept more than enough – three days, holy shit – but actually he still felt really tired and now that he was calming down, he was beginning to feel drowsy.

“What time is it, dude?”

“A little after ten pm.”

“That’s weird.  I’m sleepy.”

“That’s understandable,” Hermann replied, fingertips running up and down his shoulder in a soothing way that only made him feel sleepier.  “You’re still not entirely healed.”

Any time he breathed in too deep, it kind of hurt, but breathing shallowly was making him feel a little light-headed.  That wasn’t even counting the dull ache in his chest that throbbed in time with his heart – which he was pretty sure was because it _was_ his heart that was actually, literally aching.  It didn’t feel super-great, but considering there’d been a huge hole in it a few days ago, he figured he was lucky it was beating at all.

“You know, if I wasn’t feeling so wrecked, I’d totally be ready for some hot, life-affirming sex.”

“For God’s sake, Newton,” Hermann sighed.

“Oh, come on.  You’re here.  I’m here.  I’m hurt, not _dead._ You can’t blame me for–“

Hermann leaned in and kissed him, cutting off his sentence.  The hand that had been trailing along his shoulder moved up the back of his neck.  Newt made a pleased noise when he felt the other man’s fingers slide through his hair.

“Oh man,” Newt groaned against Hermann’s mouth.  “Was that supposed to _dissuade_ me?”

“It was meant to shut you up, actually.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I think you need to try again, because it didn’t work.”

He didn’t see Hermann’s smile, but he felt it.  Then Hermann was kissing him again, only this time he was wandering down the line of his jaw, planting soft, fervent kisses as he went.

“Careful, dude, you’re gonna make me spring a leak.”

Hermann pulled back and gave him a scandalized look.  “Excuse me?”

“N-not–“ Newt laughed, really hard, and it hurt really bad, actually, but he couldn’t help it.  “I was joking… about my _heart_ springing a leak, if you got me too excited.  Get your mind out of the gutter, dude.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having the earlier bits of the chapter sort of run together and be all rambly was a stylistic choice, because I wanted to convey how confused and unwell Newt was. 
> 
> In case it wasn't clear, Hermann panicked and hit Newt in the chest to get him to let go of him, then felt EXTREMELY HORRIBLE about doing it - but hey, it worked! 
> 
> See, I am actually capable of ending chapters somewhat fluffily and without cliffhangers. Sometimes. ;D


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance if this chapter has any glaring typos or errors. I checked it over like I usually do, but my brain is gooey from the early stages of a cold, so things may have sneaked by me. Feel free to let me know if you spot anything amiss!

Hermann carefully unwrapped the bandage around his wrist.  The wound was tender and it hurt to move his wrist much – a deep, gnawing ache.  Newton apparently had jaws like a steel trap, and he was hoping it wasn’t anything worse than a sprain, because getting an x-ray would probably involve trying to explain why someone had sunk their teeth into him in the first place.  On the positive side of things, at least it hadn’t bled in a couple of days.  On the less positive side of things, it still looked horrible.  The bruising around the bite had matured from a relatively mild shade of red to a deep, ugly shade of purple and there was a ragged, uneven line of puncture wounds that were only just starting to properly scab over.

He had waited until he was sure Newton had fallen back asleep before he got up to change the bandage.  Newton didn’t seem to remember biting him, and Hermann didn’t see any reason to tell him. 

Once he had the wound cleaned up and bandaged again, he headed back into the bedroom.  He’d deftly replaced himself with a pillow when he’d gotten out of bed, and Newt – unconscious as he was – hadn’t noticed the difference.  He had his arms wrapped around it and his face half-buried in it. 

Hermann stifled a yawn.  He hadn’t managed to get much sleep in the past few days.  The day following Newton’s accident had been mostly spent pacing around the apartment, nervously checking in on him every couple of minutes.  The day after that, he had tried to go back to work, but the idea of Newt alone and vulnerable at his apartment during the day made actually concentrating on work almost impossible.  If whoever had attacked Newton knew where he worked, it seemed reasonable to assume they might also know where he lived.  So he had decided to take some time off, citing a family emergency – which was true, as far as he was concerned.

And so, this being an impromptu day off and his being utterly exhausted, he did something he almost never did in the morning – he crawled back into bed beside Newton and went back to sleep.

~

He didn’t wake up again until a quarter past two.  Newton, of course, was still asleep.  He looked considerably healthier than he had in days.  A bit pale, still, but considering at one point a couple days ago Hermann could’ve sworn he was turning _blue_ , it was a vast improvement.

Hermann smiled and kissed him before once again disentangling himself and getting out of bed.  New was likely to sleep for at least another couple of hours – if not more – and while the idea of waiting in bed for him to wake up held a certain appeal, Hermann had already had more than enough sleep for one day and was beginning to feel restless. 

After he made himself some tea – some instant concoction that, appropriately enough, he instantly regretted drinking – he headed to the living room, grabbed a book off a nearby shelf, and settled on the couch.  It was a book about bear biology, of all things.  He could follow it easily enough, but he didn’t find it particularly enthralling.  By the time he was halfway through it, he already knew more than he had ever wanted to know about bears.

“Dude, what are you reading?”

Hermann glanced up, startled.  Newton was leaning in the bedroom doorway looking groggily amused.  “An extremely detailed book about black bears.”

Newt walked over to the couch and all but collapsed onto it beside him.  He shifted around, clearly having difficulty getting comfortable, before flopping over sideways and landing in Hermann’s lap.  “I didn’t think you were into biology.”

Hermann would normally have grumbled about him just sprawling across his lap without warning, but this time he was inclined to let it slide.  “I’m not, but it seems most of your books are either about rock bands or biology, so my options were limited.”  He ran a hand through Newton’s hair.  “How are you feeling?”

“Slightly less like road-kill than I felt last time I was awake.  So… better, I guess.”

“Mr. Choi supposed to be here soon,” Hermann said.  “He apparently found information on the whereabouts of Hannibal Chau.”

Newt froze.  For a moment, he didn’t even breathe.

“Newton?”

“I’m– I’m fine, I just–  How did you find out it was him?  That tried to have me killed, I mean.”

“Mr. Choi received a threat in the mail, apparently.  He seemed certain that Hannibal Chau was the one responsible for your… accident.”

“Not much of an accident when someone walks up to you and deliberately shanks you, Hermann.”

“I only meant–”

“Yeah, no, sorry.  I'm still a little freaked out by the whole thing.”

Hermann kept running his hands gently through his hair.  “You’ve been through quite an ordeal.  I understand.”

Newton’s eyes drifted shut and he sighed softly.  “That feels nice.”

They sat there silently for awhile.  Hermann did his best not to worry about the way Newton wheezed audibly when he breathed. 

“Did Tendo tell you anything about Hannibal?”

“He said the three of you had a history, and that Hannibal Chau is a criminal involved in some kind of black market.  Beyond that, no, Mr. Choi was rather tight-lipped about the whole matter.”

Newton started to tremble – then the trembling evolved into outright shaking.  At first, Hermann thought he was crying.  After a couple moments he realized he was _laughing_.  “Dude, you keep calling Tendo ‘Mr. Choi’ and I keep trying to take it seriously, but it’s really cracking me up, I’m sorry.” 

~

A couple hours later Mr. Choi – Tendo – arrived at the apartment.  He came in wearing a grave, tired expression, but he brightened considerably when he saw that Newt was up and about.  “Hey, buddy, how’s it going?”

Newton was on the couch again, after a particularly ill-fated attempt to reach the kitchen that had resulted in Hermann half-dragging him back to the couch while Newton had groused breathlessly about wanting pop-tarts and how he would crawl on his hands and knees to get to them if he had to.  In the end, Hermann had ended up retrieving the pop-tarts for him, along with a bottle of pig’s blood.  He had even put a straw in the bottle, which had made Newt laugh so hard that he’d started coughing.

“I’ve been better,” Newt said with a shrug, “but I’ll live.  Probably.”

“Glad to hear it.”  Tendo smiled and patted him on the shoulder before settling into a nearby chair.  “So, the past couple days I’ve been knocking on some doors and calling in some favors trying to find out if anyone’s heard anything about Hannibal Chau recently.”

Hermann sat back down beside Newton.  “Did you find anything?”

“Yeah, I found a guy who knew something.  He was a little reluctant to talk to me, but I managed to persuade him.  Guess he did some work for Chau not too long ago.  He gave me an address.”  Tendo dug a folded up map out of his pocket and spread it out across the coffee table and tapped a specific point with his finger.  “Apparently, Chau’s been working out of this place.” 

“Are you kidding me?!” Newt exclaimed.  “ _That’s_ Hannibal’s evil lair?”

Tendo looked up at Newt.  “’Evil lair?’  Really?”

“That is rather… odd,” Hermann replied.  “Although I suppose not many people would be expecting a coffee shop to be a front for a black market dealer.”

“Well, if the information’s wrong, I’m going to have to go back to my informant and hope I didn’t crack his skull too bad.”

Newt, who had been about to start sucking on his straw again, stopped and raised an eyebrow.  “Dude, you cracked someone’s skull?”

Tendo shrugged.  “At the time, we still weren’t sure if you were gonna pull through.  The guy wasn’t being very cooperative, and I might’ve gotten… a little cranky.”

Newt grinned.  “Aww.”

“Anyway, the only way to know for sure is to go check it out.”

“You know,” Newt said, chewing on the end of his straw thoughtfully – which made Hermann cringe, it was a terrible habit, “if Hannibal _is_ hiding out at Raiju, this could be a win-win for us.  We go over there, see how _he_ likes getting stabbed for once, and we’ll have crushed Coyote Tango’s competition _and_ gotten revenge for the whole attempted murder thing!”

“I’m so glad you have your priorities in order, Newton,” Hermann snorted.

He shrugged.  “I’m just saying.  I mean, we’re all in agreement that we need to go kill that guy, right?  He’s just going to keep doing pesky things like try to kill _us_ if we don’t.”

“Look, there’s no ‘we’ here, buddy,” Tendo said.  “You’re staying here.”

“What?  Why?!”  Indignant, Newt tried to lean forward and almost immediately had to lie back against his pillow again, looking pained.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Dude, I’m _fine_.”  The statement might have been more convincing if Newton hadn’t been wheezing for breath between words.

“Newton,” Hermann replied, “you couldn’t even make it to the _kitchen_ earlier without getting winded.”

“Oh man, my best friend and my boyfriend teaming up against me.  I think I had a nightmare like this once.”  His tone was light, but Hermann could see in his eyes that he was upset – angry, even.

Tendo must have picked up on it, too.  “Newt–“

“Look, whatever.  Just be careful, because Hannibal doesn’t screw around.  He’s dangerous – really, _really_ dangerous.”

“I know that,” Tendo replied.

“Yeah, but I’m not worried about you.  I mean, I am, but at least I know _you_ can take care of yourself.”

Hermann gave him an offended glare.  “Newton–“

“I’m serious, Hermann.  The guy’s like a shark – a really huge, flamboyantly dressed shark – and you’re a _teacher_.  What’re you gonna do if things go bad?  Shake a ruler at him and scowl disapprovingly?”

That stung.  It was a fair point, perhaps, but it stung. 

It must have shown on his face, because Newt’s gaze softened.  “Look, I just– Hannibal’s the kind of guy that doesn’t think twice about killing someone just for _looking_ at him wrong.  I don’t want you to get hurt, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

The three of them sat there in tense silence for a few minutes.  Tendo looked grim.  Newton had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he couldn’t decide whether to argue some more or cry – or both.

“I think I’m gonna go back to bed.  I mean, since you guys don’t need me for anything,” Newt sighed and stood up.  He looked exhausted, despite the fact he’d only been up for a few hours.  It was to be expected, Hermann supposed.  His wounds had been severe, even for someone with his exceptional regenerative capabilities.

Hermann stood up and gently caught him by the shoulder.  “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”  He shrugged, and added, “Well, I mean, as good as I can be considering the whole near-death experience thing.  I’m just… tired.”  He sounded hurt, in a way that Hermann suspected had little to do with his recent injury.

“You _do_ understand why you can’t come with us, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I get it.  Can’t have me slowing you down with my Swiss cheesed circulatory system.” 

“Newton…”

Newt leaned into him and wrapped his arms around his waist.  “I know you’re just trying to protect me.  I mean, I think you’re being way _over_ -protective, and I’m kinda irritated, but I get it.  I’m too tired to really argue about it anymore, so… you win.  Just promise me you’ll come up with an actual plan of attack or something so you don’t get yourselves killed, okay?”

“We’ll be careful,” Tendo said.  “Just get some rest, buddy.”

Newton smiled halfheartedly and trudged away.

“He’s not very happy with us right now,” Hermann said softly, after Newt had disappeared into the bedroom.

Tendo sighed.  “He knows it’s the right call – he just doesn’t want to admit it.  He’ll be okay.  I’d rather have him be pissed off at us than dead.”

“I agree.”  Hermann sat back down.

“So, apparently Raiju’s open pretty late most nights, but on Mondays they close up shop early.  I say we head over there in a couple hours – there probably won’t be many customers hanging around by then.  If we hit the place hard and fast, I can _probably_ take Hannibal out before any of his goons can do anything.”

“So you do plan on killing him.”

Tendo gave him a look.  “Is that a problem?  I mean, the guy tried to have Newt killed.  That’s not counting the shitstorm that went down a few years back.”

Hermann remembered how Newton had tossed and turned and whimpered for mercy during the nastier parts of his recent delirium.  “What happened?”

The other man shook his head.  “Newt wouldn’t like me talking about it, and he’s already pissed off at me as it is.  But basically?  That guy’s death is long overdue, and it’s non-negotiable.  If that bothers you, you can wait in the car.”

~

An hour later, Hermann and Tendo were ready to head across town to pay Hannibal Chau a visit.  Hermann was nervous – terrified, actually – but he didn’t like the idea of Tendo running off to handle the situation on his own.  He seemed like the level-headed sort, for the most part, but recent events had clearly put him on edge.  Hermann didn’t want to be responsible for Newton’s best friend getting himself killed.  He wouldn’t be much good in a fight, perhaps, but the least he could do was watch Tendo’s back.

He decided to check in on Newton before they left, just in case… well, just in case things did go badly.  He opened the bedroom door as quietly as possible – which, of course, caused it to creak loudly.  “Newton?”

There was no response.

“Newton, are you awake?”

Again, there was no response.  He suddenly had a horrible feeling.  He flipped the light switch on.  The bed was empty, and the bedroom window was wide open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger, albeit a slightly less evil one. I am so sorry. 
> 
> Many thanks to AtypicalOwl for suggesting names for the rival coffee shop! I was about two seconds away from just throwing my hands up in the air and calling it The Rival Coffee Shop, so crisis narrowly averted. XD


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really, really long chapter. I'm not sure how it ended up this long. It just sort of happened.

Newt sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes to make sure neither of them were going to follow him into the bedroom.  Once he heard the conversation in the living room start back up – without him, which yeah, pissed him off a more than a little bit, to be honest – he stood back up and tried to ignore how noodly his legs felt.  Yeah, okay, so he wasn’t exactly in the best of conditions, but seriously, they expected him to just sit back and do nothing?  What assholes.  He loved them both, but they were assholes.

If he was quiet enough on his way out, he could be halfway across town before they even realized he was gone – maybe even more than halfway – and he _could_ be sneaky when he wanted to be, contrary to popular belief.  He wasn’t sure what he’d do once he _got_ to Raiju, but he figured there was a good chance Hannibal thought he was dead, so that would give him the element of surprise, at least.  Hopefully.

He grabbed a t-shirt from his shrinking collection of shirts that _didn’t_ have holes in them and pulled it on – which was easier said than done, since lifting his arms made his chest hurt pretty bad.  He also grabbed his jacket, which hadn’t escaped unscathed from his heart’s broken fire hydrant impersonation.  It was pretty much toast – blood was all over it.  There was also a hole in the back, and just looking at it made his chest twinge, because it was hard enough to shove a piece of wood through someone’s sternum in the first place – shoving it in so deep it went all the way through and out the _back_ took some real dedication.  Scary, murderous dedication.

A tiny voice in the back of his head suggested that maybe – just maybe – this was a bad idea.  He ignored it.  He also dropped his jacket with a sigh, because going around town in bloodstained leather wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

The window slid open pretty easily, but he still stopped for a second to listen and make sure they hadn’t heard him open it.  After a minute without either of them barging into the bedroom, he figured he was good to go.  He crawled through the window and out onto the fire escape.  The ladder at the bottom was rusty and he knew if he tried to jiggle it loose it was going to make too much noise so he hoisted himself over the railing and jumped.

Tendo always made stuff like that look easy – the guy could jump off a three story building and land on his feet like a cat and saunter away like it was nothing.  Newt _usually_ managed to land on his feet, but it always hurt like hell.  This time wasn’t any different.  On the bright side, he didn’t break an ankle this time.  On the not-so-bright side, the landing jarred him hard enough that he almost fell over and he had to lean against a wall for a minute until he stopped seeing spots.

So far, not so good.

Okay, so walking the whole way wasn’t going to work.  Even on a good day, going across town on foot would have been a little daunting.  He was pretty sure if he tried it in his current condition he wasn’t going to make it.  He thought about hotwiring Tendo’s car, but then if Hannibal didn’t kill him before the night was over, _Tendo_ probably would, so he figured his best bet was to take the bus. 

Actually getting to the bus stop was easier said than done.  He kept having to stop to catch his breath, and it wasn’t even helping a whole lot.  By the time he got to the bus stop and onto the bus, he was so dizzy he all but collapsed into his seat. 

~

After what felt like the longest bus ride of his life, he arrived at Raiju.  He’d never actually seen the place before.  It looked… nice, actually – _really_ nice.  Its sign was a bright neon blue with one of those stylish fonts usually reserved for fancy restaurants and the windows had swirly etchings along the edges.  It was probably a stupid thing to be worrying about at a time like this, but all he could think as he opened the door and walked in was that he seriously hoped the quality of their beverages and food wasn’t proportionate to how amazing the place looked from the outside.

Then when the scent of coffee hit him and he saw a row of really delicious-looking blueberry muffins – among other things – and his heart sank.  Of course, then he saw who was standing behind the counter, and all concerns about pastries and job security fled his mind along with most other coherent thought.  On the one hand, it was really convenient for him to be right there out in the open, but on the other hand deep down Newt had really, really hoped he’d never see him again, so there were a couple conflicting emotions there.

Hannibal hadn’t changed much.  Sure, he looked a bit older, but he was just as over-dressed and intimidating as he’d been twenty years ago.  He still had a nasty scar over his left eye, and it was probably petty of Newt to feel kind of _happy_ about it, but after everything that had happened twenty years ago, he figured it had been pretty charitable of him to leave Hannibal with a face at all.

Hannibal’s eyebrows shot upward as Newt walked up to the counter.  “Newt?  I never expected to see _you_ here.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Having recovered from his initial surprise, Hannibal scowled at him.  “Well, what do you want?  Did you come to stab me in the face with a knife again?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you still mad about your eye?  That’s funny, because I’m still kinda mad about the time you tried to harvest my organs!  Oh, and I’m _really_ mad about you sending someone to _kill me_!” 

Several customers made shocked noises in the background, but Newt didn’t really care. 

Hannibal raised an eyebrow.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I mean, it’s not bad enough that you–  Wait, _what_?”  Newt laughed, a bit hysterically, “Oh no, I’m not falling for that!  Like you don’t _know_ exactly what I’m talking about!”

“I don’t.”

“Really?  _Really_?  You know absolutely nothing about the creepy, cryptic cards me and Tendo got in the mail, or the lady that showed up outside Coyote Tango and jammed a stake in my chest and mentioned you _by name_ before she did it?  Really?”

Hannibal glanced around at the few customers that hadn’t fled the shop after Newt’s initial outburst.  “Better watch it, kid.  Your fangs are showing.”

“That’s because I kind of want to rip your face off,” Newt growled.

“Yeah?  I don’t think so.  I think you’re scared.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I just really, really want to rip your face off.”  He wasn’t scared.  If he was breathing heavily and his heart was pounding, it was because he was exhausted from hiking and bus-hopping his way across town, and if he was shaking really hard it was because he’d left his jacket at home and it was cold – even though he couldn’t remember when he’d actually felt cold last.  He was _not_ scared.

Hannibal leaned over the counter and said, voice low, “Newt, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t send someone else to do it.  I’d have them bring you back here, and _I’d_ do it, personally.  I’d take you apart, piece by piece – while you were still breathing – and I’d save your eyes for last and keep them as souvenirs.”

Newt’s brain was firing in a thousand different directions trying to think of a good response to that, but all he managed to choke out was, “Oh.”

“And I sure as hell wouldn’t stake you – ruins the value.  Do you know how much vampire hearts go for these days?”

He didn’t, but it was probably a lot.  It had been a lot twenty years ago, so it was probably even more now.  “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but I’m a _pragmatic_ asshole.  Revenge is nice, but I never let it get in the way of business.”

Business.  _Just business_.  Nothing personal.  Like strapping someone to a table, cutting them open, and rifling around in their insides while they were still alive was no big deal.  He could still remember how it felt to have someone reach inside of him and squeeze around in there like they were testing fruit at the grocery store to see if it was ripe and not, y’know, rummaging around in a person’s body trying to calculate organ value.

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.  It felt like his lungs just sort of gave up on processing oxygen and his heart felt like it was going to explode and kept doing this little fluttery, flippy thing he was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be doing.  Before he had a chance to wonder why he suddenly had a great view of the lights on the ceiling – _chandeliers_ in a coffee shop, seriously? – he lost consciousness.

~

Newt came to his senses and found himself laid out on a couch that looked more like something you’d find at some fancy high society function than in a coffee shop.  Seriously, what was with the furniture in this place? 

“I never knew vampires could faint.”

“I didn’t faint,” Newt grumbled.  “I passed out.”

“Whatever you wanna call it, kid.  You turned white as a sheet, wobbled for a second, then went down like a sack of potatoes.  Scared off my customers.”

Newt glared at him.  “Good.  I hope they never come back.”

Hannibal chuckled.  “What’s wrong?  Afraid of a little friendly competition?”

He snorted at that, hard, then wished he hadn’t because it kind of hurt.  “’Friendly’ competition.  Yeah, right.”  Even on a good day, he wouldn’t have ever categorized Hannibal as “friendly.”  Sure, he _acted_ friendly enough when he felt like it, but that’s all it was: an act.  Something he used to get people to let their guard down so he could stab them in the back when they least expected it.

Hannibal crouched down beside the couch.  “Wow.  If looks could kill, I might actually be in trouble.”

“Maybe I just need to glare harder.”

“Save your energy, kid.  Right now, you’re about as menacing as a field mouse.”  He dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and reached towards Newt’s face.

Newt flinched and shrank away from him about as far as the couch allowed.  “Don’t touch me!”

“Geez, don’t get so worked up.  You smacked your face on the counter on your way down.  I was just gonna clean you up a bit.”

That seemed like something Newt would’ve remembered happening, but his brain was feeling a little hazy.  When he wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, it came away bloody.  “Oh.”

“What did you think I was gonna do?  Kill you with a hanky?”

Newt side-eyed him suspiciously.  “Maybe.” 

Hannibal offered him the handkerchief and Newt snatched it out of his hand and wiped his nose.  It was already healed, but it had bled a lot.  It was all over his face and he noticed when he glanced down that was some had gotten onto his shirt, too.  At the rate he was going, he was going to run out of shirts that _didn’t_ have bloodstains on them, shit.

“So about what you were saying before you fainted…”

“Passed out.”

The other man shrugged.  “Who tried to kill you?”

“ _You_ did.”

“You keep saying that, but I’m telling you I had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, sure, I believe you.  I mean, you’ve been nothing but trustworthy in the past, right?  I’m sure it’s all just a terrible misunderstanding.”

“Newt, I’ve been in town for months, and I knew _you_ were here way before that.  I’ve been keeping tabs on you for years.  I could have come after you any time I wanted.”

“Right, that’s completely reassuring and not at all creepy.”

“Tell me something.  You know me, right?”

“I wish I didn’t.”

“You said you got threats in the mail.  In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever made a habit out of conveniently announcing to people that I’m going to kill them in advance?”

“Well… no.”  Newt blinked at him.  “Wait a minute, so you _didn’t_ send someone to kill me?”

If Hannibal hadn’t wanted to kill him before, he kind of looked like he wanted to now.   _“_ Finally, he gets it!  Jesus, kid.”

“Then wh–“

There was a loud crash that sounded like it had come from the front of the shop.  It sounded like someone had broken one of the windows.  Hannibal pulled a gun out of his jacket just as the door to his office practically _exploded_ – the center of the door just completely shattered, and the rest was barely left hanging on its hinges. 

Tendo stormed in looking ready to tear someone a new asshole, and Hermann followed not far behind.

“Newton!”

“Hermann!”

“Hannibal,” Tendo growled.

Hannibal pointed his gun at him, “Tendo.”

Hermann eyes widened when he saw the blood on Newt’s shirt, and he took a step towards him. 

Hannibal pulled out _another_ gun and pointed it at Hermann.  “Not so fast, buddy.”

Newt struggled to sit up.  “Wait, no!  Don’t!  I swear to God, dude, if you shoot him, I’m gonna kill you.”

“New boyfriend?”

“I hardly see how that’s any of your business,” Hermann replied with a scowl.

Hannibal smirked at him.  “Yeah, sure.  By the way, your love bite’s bleeding a little bit there.”

Hermann glanced down, startled, and so did Newt.  He smelled the blood before he actually saw it.  The edge of Hermann’s sweater sleeve was wet with blood – not a lot of it, but it was there, and it was fresh. 

Tendo inched closer to Hannibal.  “That gun’s not gonna do much against me.”

“Probably not,” Hannibal admitted.  Then he gestured at Hermann.  “Think you could take me out before I shoot _him_ , though?”

Newt could hear Hermann’s heart racing with fear and he wanted to get up and go to him, but he wasn’t sure if he could stand up just yet.  He was still feeling kind of dizzy.  He also still wanted to rip Hannibal’s face off, but that wasn’t exactly a new development.

He couldn’t remember ever seeing Tendo that pissed off before.  For a second, Newt was worried that he might try to take Hannibal out, anyway, but instead he just made a low, angry growly noise and backed off a little bit. 

Newt sighed in relief.  “Guys, can we just… agree to not kill anyone for a couple minutes?  There’s something weird going on.”

Tendo didn’t take his eyes off of Hannibal.  “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think Hannibal tried to have me killed.”

He glanced at Newt incredulously, “You _trust_ him?”

Newt snorted.  “No, I really, _really_ don’t, but there are a lot of things that don’t make sense.  I think– I think someone might’ve set us up.”

“I have a pretty good idea of who,” Hannibal said, “since Min hasn’t been into work in a week.”

Suddenly he was able to put a name to the face.  Min.  He _knew_ Min – not particularly well, but still. That revelation smacked Newt upside the head so hard he almost saw stars – that or he was about to pass out again, he wasn’t sure.  “Min’s the one who attacked me!  It happened so fast, I didn’t really recognize her.  I mean, I knew she looked familiar, but– God, no wonder she was able to sneak up on me.”

Hermann looked a bit confused, and he couldn’t really blame him.  “Who is Min?”

“She works for me,” Hannibal replied.  “Or, she used to, anyway.  I think it’s safe to say she’s quit.”

Tendo shook his head.  “If she’s not working for you, why would she attack Newt and make it look like you arranged it?”

“She was probably hoping you’d come barging in here and kill me.”

Which he would have, Newt realized.  Tendo was a pretty level-headed guy most of the time, but if Newt had died, he probably would have hunted Hannibal down and ripped him apart, or died trying.  Newt had survived, though, and that had probably thrown a huge wrench in an otherwise pretty solid plan.  If Tendo had succeeded in killing Hannibal, then Min would’ve gotten what she wanted, and if he hadn’t, there’d be no way to ever know she’d been behind it.  That was pretty damn crafty… if it was true.

Newt shook his head.  “Wow, what, did you do to piss her off?  Did you decide to vivisect _her_ , too?”

Hannibal shot him a dirty look.  Or at least, he thought he did, it was hard to tell through those glasses he was wearing.  “No, I didn’t.”

Hermann took a step towards Newt and when Hannibal shot him a warning look, said, “If you’re going to shoot me, get on with it, but otherwise I _am_ going over there.”

“Yeah, fine, just no funny business.”

Hermann rolled his eyes.  “I’m unarmed.  Unlike _some_ , I don’t carry an endless supply of firearms in my pockets.”  He strode towards the couch like he was completely unconcerned about the gun trained on him, and Newt could tell it was an act, but it was still _amazing_. 

“Dude,” Newt said with a grin, “that was so–“

Hermann sat on the edge of the couch and immediately started fussing over him.  “Are you hurt?”

“What?  No.  No, I’m okay.  Uh, I just hit my head when I passed out and–“

“You _passed out_?”

“Well, yeah, but–“

“What is _wrong_ with you?!”  Hermann glared at him and, wow, he was really angry.  He’d switched from concerned to pissed off so fast, it almost gave Newt whiplash.  “You are in no condition to be gallivanting around town, you fool!”

“’Gallivanting,’ seriously?”

“ _Newton_ –“

“Look,” Hannibal interrupted, “this is all very heartwarming, but since we’ve established that I had nothing to do with this, could you guys maybe get the hell out of my coffee shop?”

~

“I don’t like this,” Tendo muttered.

They were sitting in his car in front of Newt’s apartment building.  Hermann had already gone inside. 

“Yeah, you’ve said that a few times now.”

“Well, I _still_ don’t like it.  Hannibal’s up to something.”

“Hannibal’s _always_ up to something.”

“Which is why we should’ve killed him.  Even if he didn’t have anything to do with what happened – and that’s a pretty big _if_ – he’s going to be trouble later.  You know he is.”

“Dude, are you forgetting the part where he was threatening to kill Hermann?”

“I could’ve gotten to him before he took the shot.”

“Maybe, maybe not.  And if you hadn’t been able to, Hermann would’ve gotten _shot_ , so… sorry, but I’m really glad you didn’t do anything stupid.”

Tendo side-eyed him.

Newt sighed.  “Come on, it’s gonna be okay, man.”

“Yeah, having a guy in town that likes to collect vampire organs for fun and profit makes me feel very secure about my future.”

“Hey, I’m not exactly thrilled about it either, y’know.  Of the two of us, which one’s actually been a victim of the organ profiteering thing?  He’s probably still got my spleen in a jar somewhere.”

Tendo shook his head.  “Nah, he’s probably sold it by now.”

Newt snickered.  “Probably.”

They sat there for awhile, laughing, then for awhile longer in silence once the laughter had finally died down.

“Did you know I bit Hermann?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I did.”

“I– I don’t remember doing it.  How bad was it?  I mean–“

“He tried to feed you and you went a little… berserk.  He was pretty shaken up, afterward, but you didn’t hurt him too bad.  He was scared, but…”

Newt swallowed hard, throat feeling tight.  “Oh.”

Tendo shook his head.  “Newt, I didn’t mean–  Not scared _of_ you, scared _for_ you.  You were dying, man.  You would have died.  You get that, right?”

“Uh, yeah?  Yeah, I do.”

“I’m not sure that you do, brother.  Running off  the way you did, in the state you’re in… You’re _always_ pulling stupid shit like this.  You act like you’re invincible, and you’re not.  It was one thing when you were young and didn’t know what you were doing, but you should really know better by now.  You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.”

“Gee, thanks for the lecture, _Dad._ ”

The other man sighed.  “Look, you know I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need you looking out for me anymore,” Newt snapped, and regretted it pretty much the second the words left his mouth.

“Maybe you don’t,” Tendo replied, staring down at the steering wheel.

“Tendo–“

“You should go up to your apartment and see how Hermann’s doing.  He’s had a rough couple of nights.”  He glanced up at Newt, and he didn’t even look angry, he just looked tired.  Newt would’ve actually preferred angry – angry, he could deal with.  “Just go, Newt.”

“Y-yeah, I’m going.”

~

He found Hermann in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking exhausted. 

Newt probably should have asked him how he was feeling, or if he was okay, or maybe even apologize for dragging him into this whole mess in the first place, but he didn’t say any of those things.  Instead, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hermann didn’t even have to ask what he meant.  “Because it wasn’t important.”

Newt came over and sat beside him.  “Hermann, it _was_ important, holy shit!  I could have killed you!  What were you even _thinking_?!”

“I was thinking,” Hermann said slowly, like he explaining something obvious, “that if I didn’t do something, I was going to lose you.”

“And what if I lost _you_ , huh?  Did you think about that, like, _at all_?  Of course, you didn’t.  Obviously, you didn’t, because you’re an idiot.  You have got to be the dumbest smart person I’ve ever met, because otherwise you would have realized what a really, really _horrible_ idea it was to–“

“Yes,” Hermann said sharply, “much like racing off to confront a dangerous criminal while still suffering from the effects of a life-threatening injury was an incredibly stupid thing to do.”

He glared at Hermann angrily.  “Tendo would have charged in there and gotten himself chopped into _pieces_ and auctioned off, and _you_ would have gotten yourself killed – which, I don’t know, maybe you’ve got a death wish or something, since that’s like, what, the second time this _week_ you’ve tried to get yourself killed?”

“ _I’m_ the one with a death wish?  What was your plan, Newton?  You didn’t seriously expect to take on Hannibal Chau singlehandedly in your condition, did you?  So what, pray tell, were _you_ thinking?”

He was so mad.  He wasn’t even sure who he was mad at anymore, but he was just _so_ pissed off.  He planned on yelling some more – he really did – but then he saw the stricken look on Hermann’s face and he just sort of deflated.

Hermann didn’t resist when Newt grabbed him lightly by the arm and pushed up the sleeve of his sweater, or when he carefully unraveled the bandage wrapped around his wrist.  The bandage fell away.  The bruising was pretty horrible around the edges of the bite.  Most of the bite marks were on their way to healing up just fine, by the look of it, but the ones where Newt’s fangs had ripped at his skin – the ones that had been bleeding again earlier, he figured – still looked pretty bad.  Jesus, he’d really torn him up.  It was probably going to scar. 

“I would do it again, if I had to.  I wish the… first time… had been under better circumstances, but I don’t regret doing it.”

“It’s– it’s not that I’m not grateful.  I mean you saved my life, probably.  I just–  I could’ve–“  He didn’t realize he was crying until Hermann’s arms wrapped around him. 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But–“

“Newton, stop.  Please, just stop.”

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you, too,” Hermann said, kissing him on the cheek.  “Fangs and all.”

That made him cry harder, and he pressed his face into Hermann’s shoulder.  They stayed like that for awhile, and by the time Newt was done crying he’d pretty much soaked Hermann’s sweater, but Hermann didn’t seem to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Newt's had a bad few days. Hermann's had a bad few days. Tendo's had a bad few days. EVERYONE'S HAD A BAD FEW DAYS. 
> 
> The next chapter is 100% fluff. Well, 98% fluff. 
> 
> Only a few more chapters left to go!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so when I said this chapter was going to be fluff, what I *actually* meant was fluffy SEX. Whoops.

“I got your sweater all soggy,” Newton whispered, voice hoarse.

Hermann rubbed Newton’s trembling shoulders.  “It’s alright.”

Newt let out a deep, shuddering breath.  “I really, really hate that guy.  Hannibal, I mean.  He’s an asshole.  Even if he didn’t try to have me killed, I still just– I would’ve been completely happy to just never see his fucking face again, ever, and now he’s _here_.”

For a moment, Hermann hesitated.  On the one hand, it was clearly a sensitive subject, on the other, he doubted a better opportunity would present itself.  “What exactly happened, between the two of you?”

Newt’s shoulders stiffened slightly, and for a moment Hermann thought he might have over-stepped.  Then Newt replied, “Around twenty years ago, I… I worked for him.  He fed me this bullshit about wanting to help out people like me – other vampires who didn’t have anyone else to turn to, and I fell for it.”

“What sort of work did you do?”

“I helped him with research into vampire biology.  I thought I was helping him find ways to improve lives when really I was just helping him find new and improved ways to slice and dice us to make more money.  I had no idea what he was really doing, and the thing is – the thing that _really_ pisses me off – is that I really should’ve, y’know?”

“You had no way of knowing, Newton.”

“Didn’t I, though?  I mean, you’ve met the guy.  Hannibal doesn’t exactly ooze trustworthiness, and I just–  I should have been more suspicious, but any time something seemed kinda fishy, he always had this perfectly reasonable-sounding explanation for it, and I’d just shrug and accept it and keep on working in my lab while there were innocent people just a couple rooms over getting gutted.”

“You didn’t kill those people,” Hermann said softly.

“Half of what he knows about vampires now, he knows because of me.  I practically helped him build his operation.  He was kind of small time back then, but then I came along and made his profit margin _skyrocket_ , so I mean– so what if I didn’t actually help him carve people up?  I might as well have.” 

“How did you find out what was going on?”

Newton wiped at his eyes.  “Uh, I heard someone scream, so I peeked out into the hallway just in time to see Min dragging someone back into one of the rooms I was never allowed into.  Hannibal didn’t have a reasonable explanation for that one when I confronted him about it, so I guess he just… decided to cut his losses.”

“He–“

“Decided to scrap me for spare parts?  Yeah.  Yeah, he did.  I guess he probably would’ve done it to me eventually, anyway, once he didn’t need me anymore.”

“How did you escape?”

“Tendo busted in there and saved my ass.  We didn’t know each other that well yet, but I guess he got worried when I went missing and came looking for me.  He took care of me, after, until I was healed up.”  Newton sighed, and almost looked as though he was going to begin crying again.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I just… need to call him.  Later, I mean.  Right now I’m seriously thinking about hibernating for the rest of the year.”

“The past few days have been rather exhausting.”

Newt curled against him tighter.  “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, dude.”

Hermann kissed him on the forehead.  “I’m not.”

~

Newton’s idea of sleepwear generally included taking off his shoes, peeling himself out of his pants, and sleeping in his boxers and whichever shirt he happened to have on at the time.  By the time Hermann changed into his pajamas, went to the bathroom, and got back, Newt’s pants were lying in a crumpled heap at the side of the bed beside his shoes and he had his face buried in a pillow.  He hadn’t even changed out of his bloody t-shirt, but given the circumstances, Hermann didn’t have the heart to pester him about it.

He quietly eased into bed beside him.  He couldn’t tell, at a glance, whether Newton was asleep or not, so he decided not to disturb him.  A moment later, he felt the bed shift as Newt scooted closer, one of his arms snaking around Hermann’s waist.  A few moments after _that,_ he felt something press against his hip. 

“Newton.”

Newt chuckled softly.  “Uh, sorry.”

“You cannot be serious.  You’re exhausted and recovering from being stabbed with a wooden stake and you want to have _sex_?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I kinda do.  What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the–  Newton.  You were stabbed in the heart.  Most people – vampire or otherwise – would have died.”

Newton was already reaching around and slowly flicking open the buttons of Hermann’s shirt.  “Dude, I’m fine.”

“Really.”

“ _Yes,_ really.  Well, I mean– Okay, I’m not exactly back to a hundred percent, but do you think I’d be harboring the world’s most extreme boner right now if my circulation wasn’t up to snuff?”

“That hardly sounds like a reliable method of determining–”  His breath caught in his throat when Newton kissed his now bare shoulder, and he didn’t quite manage to stifle a moan.

“I’m not saying we should have a marathon or anything, I just wanna hold you, and touch you, and–“ His lips brushed against his skin again. “–kiss you.” 

Newton’s mouth began mapping a trail from his shoulder to his neck and Hermann had to bite back another moan.  “…If you start to feel unwell, we’re stopping.”

“Okay,” Newton whispered in his ear, “I promise.”  One of his hands crept down into Hermann’s pajama bottoms.  “Uh oh, a sharp, pointy object.  Should I be worried?”

“You are _ridiculous_.”

Newt chuckled and nuzzled his neck.  “You’re always saying that, but I must be doing something right.” 

His heart leapt as the other man’s fingers brushed across his erection.  “You’re doing well enough.”

“You know, if anyone else told me that, I’d probably be a little offended, but coming from you, it’s pretty high praise.  Besides,” He felt him grin against his skin, “I can hear how hard your heart’s beating, so I know I must be doing _pretty_ well.”

“That must be convenient.”

“Are you kidding me?  There were a few times you came into Coyote Tango and you’d order your tea, and it’s a good thing I’ve got your order memorized, dude, because sometimes your heart would be beating kinda fast from being all aggravated about work and sometimes I’d get so focused on that, that I would–  Well, let’s just say it’s a good thing I stand behind the counter most of the time.”

Hermann felt a blush creeping up onto his face.  “I had no idea you found me so distracting.”

“Well, I mean, it was a _good_ kind of distracted.  A lot of times, I’d catch myself listening to it while I worked.  Is that– I mean, it sounds a little creepy now that I’m saying it out loud.  Is it creepy?”

“It isn’t,” Hermann replied softly.  “You… _do_ realize it wasn’t always work stress that made my heart beat faster.”

“What–  _Oh._ Oh, really?”

Hermann rolled his eyes, “You would think someone with enhanced senses would be more observant.”

Newt propped himself on one shoulder and grinned at him – one of those huge, beaming grins of his that lit up his entire face, and the presence of fangs didn’t make it any less endearing.  “So, you liked me right from the beginning?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.  I was _attracted_ to you – there is a difference.”

“Aha, but you _admit_ that you were attracted to me all along!”  He laughed as Hermann’s blush deepened.  “Dude, it’s okay to admit it.  I _am_ a pretty sexy guy.”

“You’re never going to let this go now, are you?”

“Probably not, no.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I know,” Newt replied, still grinning.  He leaned down and kissed Hermann’s neck again and Hermann felt his fangs brush across his skin, just barely.

“You can, if you want to.”

Newt’s movements stilled for a moment.  “…What?”

Hermann’s mouth suddenly felt dry.  “Bite me.”

Newt snorted loudly.

“I’m serious, Newton.”

“I’m– I’m not sure if I should.  It’s not that I don’t want to, because I _do_ , but after what happened–“

Hermann turned his head to kiss him.  His intent was to kiss him on the mouth, but the angle was somewhat awkward and he ended up kissing him on the nose instead.

Newt stared at him for a long moment, before laughing.  “Dude, did you just kiss my _nose_?”

“I was aiming for your mouth.”

He snickered.  “Nice aim.”

Hermann huffed.

“I mean, I’m not complaining or anything.  You can kiss me anywhere you want, whenever you want.”  Newton’s expression turned serious.  “I just… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Newton–“

“It’s not even about what happened.  Well, I mean, it _is_ , but not in the way you think.  It’s only been a few days, Hermann.  Blood doesn’t just magically replenish itself overnight, you know – it takes time.  I’m not sure how much I drank the other night, and I kind of don’t want my boyfriend to die from blood loss.  I’m funny like that.”

“I trust you.  I know you’ll stop before it becomes an issue.”

“You’re really serious.”

“I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t.”

Newt stared at him a long moment before saying, “Let me know if you want me to stop, and I’ll stop, okay?”

Hermann nodded.

His lips brushed across his skin again.  There was a brief, sharp sting as Newt’s fangs pierced his flesh, but it was soon replaced with a flood of warmth as his lips pressed around the wound.  His tongue darted across his skin, lapping at it gently – a stark contrast to how he had greedily sucked at the wound on his wrist.  Newton made a deep, low noise in the back of his throat that made Hermann shiver.  Newt started stroking him in time with the slow, deliberate motion of his tongue against his neck. 

He carefully turned his head to glance over his shoulder, doing his best not to accidentally jostle Newton from his position.  The other man’s eyes were closed, his cheeks were flushed, as were his lips.  Not for the first time, Hermann lamented the fact that Newton’s fangs made other activities difficult, because his mouth was divine. 

Newton’s eyes fluttered open and he blinked up at him.  His pupils nearly eclipsed the green of his eyes, and there was something a bit wild and not altogether human in his gaze, but there was a tenderness there, too.  Any lingering doubts Hermann might have had melted away. 

He reached up and brushed his fingers across Newt’s cheek.  He leaned slightly into the touch and stared up at Hermann for a few more moments before closing his eyes again.  Hermann’s pulse raced as the movements of Newton’s hand grew faster and more erratic.  Newt’s mouth left his neck after giving it a parting lick. 

“You– you don’t have to stop,” Hermann gasped.

“Yeah, I do,” Newt breathed.  “I’m really, really close and I– I don’t want to–“

Hermann never found out what Newton didn’t want to do, because he came so forcefully that he could’ve sworn he saw stars, and Newt wasn’t far behind – shuddering hard against him.

Newt pulled his hand out of Hermann’s pants and rolled over onto his back, breathing heavily and staring up at the ceiling.

Between the lingering euphoria of his orgasm and, presumably, a bit of blood loss, it took Hermann a moment to muster the energy to turn around.  “Newton, are you alright?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’m good.  I’m pretty great, actually.  No leaks sprung.”  He laughed breathlessly, glancing down at his boxers.  “Uh, not in _that_ area, anyway.  How do you feel?”

“A bit light-headed.”

Newt licked his lips, cleaning off what little blood remained on them.  “We really should have waited to do that, probably, but you’ll be okay.”

“I’m not worried.”

Newt grinned at him.  “Hey, come here.”

He let Newton pull him close and laid his head on his chest.  Earlier that night, there had still been a faint scar there, and now it was gone.  His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath Hermann’s ear.

“I think you fixed my broken heart, dude.”

Hermann snorted.

“Come on, I was trying to be romantic – that was totally romantic.  It’s also literally true, so I actually think I deserve _bonus_ points for that one.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a point system in place.”

“There is.  I’ve got like five hundred points now and you’ve got… ten.”

Hermann glanced up at him, incredulous.  “ _Ten_?”

“Well, okay, maybe fifteen.”

“Unbelievable.  How in God’s name did you get five hundred?”

Newt laughed.  “Oh wow, Hermann, that’s just– ouch.  Ouch.  Are you seriously trying to tell me that you don’t think I’m romantic?”

“You… _do_ have your moments, I suppose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, talk about sexual healing. *chortles* Oh god, Newt is rubbing off on me. Help.


	15. Chapter 15

The difference between fresh human blood and week old refrigerated animal blood was kind of like the difference between a triple-shot of espresso and decaf.  Newt felt more like his usual, lively self and a whole lot less like road kill.  That’s not why he had done it, obviously, but he had to admit it was a nice bonus.  It also meant that he couldn’t sleep, because his body was apparently back to its usual sleep schedule.

Hermann’s head was still on his chest, one of his arms draped across Newt’s stomach, and it was a serious problem, because Newt kind of wanted to get out of bed, but at the same time he never wanted to get out of bed ever again.  There was another problem – he was hungry.  Not _hungry_ hungry, but the kind of hungry where a very specific image of food popped into his head and refused to leave until it was satisfied, like some part of his brain hadn’t gotten the memo a couple decades back about the whole liquid diet thing.

He wanted ice cream.  Ice cream sounded really good.  Conveniently, he kept several flavors of ice cream in the freezer especially for situations like this.  Okay, so he’d run to the kitchen, grab some ice cream and a spoon – maybe two, just in case Hermann woke up and wanted some – and come back to bedroom and eat it. 

Newt carefully slid out from underneath Hermann.  The other man made a huffy, disgruntled noise at the movement, but didn’t wake up.  Then he tiptoed out of the bedroom quietly – or tried to.  The floor creaked loudly and Newt froze and glanced over his shoulder.  Good, Hermann was still asleep.  He continued on.

Once he reached the kitchen, he ran into another obstacle.  The problem with keeping three – no, wait, four – flavors of ice cream in the freezer was that now he had to actually pick one, because even though grabbing two was a tempting thought, sneaking back into bed with just one was going to be pretty challenging as it was.  After ten minutes of weighing his options, he settled on chocolate peanut butter, grabbed a couple of spoons, and began Operation: Sneak Back Into The Bedroom.

It was harder getting back into bed than it had been to get out of it, mostly because he had to juggle the ice cream and the spoons.  He stuck both of the spoons in his mouth, clutched the ice cream to his chest, and climbed into bed as quietly as inhumanly possible.  He laid back against the headboard, eased the lid off the ice cream, drove one of the spoons deep into it so it would stay there, and got a big spoonful of ice cream with the other. 

He had been eating the ice cream for a couple minutes already, when he heard Hermann grumble groggily, “Newton, why are you eating ice cream directly out of the carton?”

Well, crap.

“Why _wouldn’t_ I be eating ice cream directly out of the carton?” Newt countered.

Hermann shook his head and rubbed at his eyes.  “What time is it?”

“One-ish.  I didn’t mean to wake you up, sorry.”  Newt leaned over and kissed him.

“What is that?” Hermann murmured.

Newt grinned.  “Peanut butter and chocolate.  Do you want some?”

“No.”

“Pfft.  Your loss.”  He pulled away and stuffed another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.  He moaned softly and dragged the spoon back out of his mouth slowly, licking the remaining ice cream off as he went.

Hermann snorted derisively, but Newt heard his heart beat a little faster. 

Newt glanced at him.  “Are you sure you don’t want any?”

“You’re an unrepentant tease.”

“Well, _yeah_.  So, do you?”

“I refuse to eat it like that.”

“You don’t have to eat it seductively if you don’t want to.”

Hermann sighed.  “I _meant_ go get a bowl.”

“…Oh.”  Newt raised an eyebrow.  “Does that mean you _are_ going to eat it seductively?”

“I don’t think I need to,” Hermann replied before leaning in and kissing him deeply.

Newt felt Hermann’s tongue brush lightly against his lips before slipping into his mouth and it was _nice_ , but it took him by surprise and startled a squeak out of him.  For obvious reasons, Newt didn’t usually get a whole lot of tongue action, but Hermann dodged his lengthening canines like a pro.  When they finally broke apart, they were both panting.    

Hermann gave him a look – the dark, lusty kind of look that could probably set pants on fire – and said, “Now go get that bowl.”

Newt’s dick was standing at full attention now and that just wasn’t _fair_.  “Man, and you call _me_ a tease, holy shit.  O-okay, I’m going.”

He all but leapt out of bed and hurried back to the kitchen.  It took him longer than it probably should have to remember which cabinet the bowls were in, but in his defense a lot of the blood that would have normally been going to his brain had decided to fly south for the winter. 

He was about to open one of the cabinets when he heard the floor creak behind him.  It wasn’t very loud – if he hadn’t had amazing hearing, he probably wouldn’t have noticed.  Hell, if he hadn’t recently been snuck up on and stabbed, he probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it.  He knew it wasn’t Hermann – he could still hear him in the bedroom.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see where he kept the knives.  It wasn’t quite within arm’s reach, but it wasn’t too far.  He was pretty sure he could reach it.

He dived sideways just in time to avoid getting brained with a paperweight.  He made a desperate grab for one of the knives and only realized as he spun around with his weapon in hand that what he had actually grabbed was a spatula.

Min stood there, looking vaguely amused.

Newt groped blindly along the counter behind him.  His fingers wrapped around the handle of… something… and he was extremely relieved that this time it was one of the knives he’d meant to grab the first time.  He threw the spatula at Min and she batted it away with ease.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“I’m here to finish what I started,” Min replied.  “Imagine my surprise earlier tonight, when I found out you survived our encounter a few days ago.  It never occurred to me to make sure that you were dead.”

“Yeah, well, sorry to inconvenience you.”

“Oh, don’t worry.  It’s only a very small inconvenience.”

Newt held the knife out in front of him.  If she came at him, he had zero qualms about stabbing her.  It wouldn’t kill her, but at least it might slow her down.  “Well, the way I see it, you have to get close to me to kill me, and if you get close, I’m going to start stabbing.”

Min opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it.  She looked thoughtful for a moment before backing out into the living room and stopping near the wall outside the bedroom.  Newt followed her warily, because she was definitely up to something, and whatever it was, he already didn’t like it. 

“Newton, what’s taking you so long?”

No.  No, no, no.

“Hermann, stay in the bedroom!”

“What are you–“  It was too late.  The second Hermann stepped through the doorway of the bedroom, Min grabbed him by the throat.  He let out a startled cry and struggled to break free, but it was no use.

“Let him go,” Newt growled.

Min smiled.  “Put down the knife, and I’ll let him go.”

“Newton, don’t,” Hermann gasped.  “She’s going to kill me anyway.”

Min’s grip tightened and Hermann choked. 

Newt inched over towards the wall and hoped Min wouldn’t catch on to what he was doing.  “You _swear_ you’ll let him go?”

“You have my word.”

The Godzilla poster on the wall was in a fancy frame he’d gotten custom made around thirty years ago or so.  It was one of the few things he still had from his pre-vampire life, and he really, really didn’t want to do what he was about to do.  He dropped the knife and kicked it across the floor.

“There.  Now let him go!”

Min smiled.  Then she casually flung Hermann away.  He hit a wall, hard, and fell to the floor, unmoving.  Newt could tell he wasn’t dead, but beyond that he couldn’t tell for sure how bad he might be hurt.  Before he had time to worry about it, Min was already coming at him. 

She moved really, really fast.  Newt had met some quick-footed vampires in his day, but Min took it to a whole new level.  Still, she hadn’t caught on to what he was planning, and super-speed didn’t do you much good if you didn’t see an attack coming.  So by the time she realized what was happening, she wasn’t able to react in time to dodge it.  Newt pulled the frame off the wall and smashed it over her head as hard as he could – which was pretty hard.  The glass of the poster frame shattered and one of the edges of the frame itself _bent_ , and Min staggered, but she didn’t go down.  Shit.

She wasn’t smiling anymore – she was snarling, fangs bared – and it wasn’t much of an improvement.  She lunged forward, grabbed him, and threw him.  The force of the toss alone felt like it rattled every bone in his body, and when he hit the coffee table it basically shattered.  He didn’t even have time to recover from that before she was grabbing him again.  This time she smashed him against the wall and held him there, fingers tight around his throat.

“This time,” Min said, sounding a lot calmer than she actually looked, “I’ll make sure you’re dead.” 

Her fingers dug into his skin, and he had a feeling she was planning on ripping his throat out.  That, or ripping his head off, and he really didn’t like either of those options.  He grabbed ahold of her hand and tried to pry her fingers away, but she was too strong.  She was going to kill him – _really_ kill him, this time – and then she was probably going to kill Hermann, too.  He growled at her, and she squeezed harder.  He felt blood trickle down his neck.  She smiled again, and that’s when he noticed she had one of the broken table legs gripped in her other hand.

_Oh great_ , he thought, _I’m going to get staked.  Again._

He heard a wet, crunching noise, and for half a second, he thought it was something of his that was getting crunched.  Then Min stiffened, eyes going wide with shock.  Her grip loosened, and Newt was so busy coughing and gasping for air that he didn’t realize what exactly had happened until Min toppled over, the sharp, jagged end of one of the other table legs protruding from her chest.

Hermann stood there, shaking and looking like he was going to be sick.

“Holy shit!” Newt exclaimed, stepping away from Min uncertainly.  Sure, she _looked_ dead, but he’d survived a staking and Min was older and stronger than he was, so he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Hermann gave Newt a concerned look.  “Are you alright?”

“Am _I_ alright?” Newt asked, voice shaking.  “Dude, you got thrown halfway across the room.  Are _you_ alright?”  . 

“I-I’m fine, I think,” Hermann replied.  “Nothing’s broken, at any rate.  You’re bleeding.”  His fingers brushed gingerly against Newt’s neck where Min’s fingers had dug into his throat.

Newt could feel the vaguely itchy sensation of his skin trying to knit itself back together.  “It’s okay, it’s healing.  I’m– I’m good.”

Hermann glanced back down, a horrified look on his face.  Newt followed his gaze.  Min wasn’t dead.  She wasn’t in great shape, but she definitely wasn’t dead.  She coughed up blood and was visibly trying to push herself to her feet.

“Uh,” Newt said, “I think you might’ve missed her heart, dude.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Hermann whispered harshly.  “It was my first time driving a _wooden stake_ through someone’s chest.”  In a more uncertain tone he added, “Er, shouldn’t we do something?”

“Y-yeah.  Yeah, probably.”

It took him a minute to find the knife he’d dropped and by the time he did, Min had given up on trying to get up and was just trying to crawl back towards the balcony where she’d apparently snuck in from.  As Newt approached, she slumped on the floor and gave him a baleful glare that still managed to be pretty intimidating even though she was bleeding all over the place.

Newt glared right back.  “I want to know why you were trying to get Hannibal killed.”

She laughed, teeth stained with blood.  “Does anyone need a reason for wanting Hannibal Chau dead?”

“So, what, you got bored and decided to kill him just because?  I don’t buy it.  If you were doing it to protect yourself, I get it.  We both know what he does to people once they outlive their usefulness.”

Min laughed, teeth stained with blood.  “I don’t need or want your sympathy.  I’m not like you, Geiszler.  I didn’t obliviously fawn over him like a fool – I always knew exactly what sort of man he was.  I worked for him for as long as it was worth my time to do so.  It no longer was.”  She coughed again, “Finish it, then.”

He knew he should probably kill her.  It wasn’t like she didn’t have it coming.  “You’re right.  I’m not like you.”  He sighed.  “Just get out of here.”

“You’re letting her _go_?” Hermann asked incredulously.  “Have you forgotten that this woman attempted to kill you _twice_?  And she very nearly succeeded both times!”

Newt glanced over his shoulder at him.  “So I should, what, kill her instead?  I– I can’t.  I can’t do it, Hermann.”

Hermann’s expression softened.  “Newton, she’ll try again.”

“I don’t think she will,” Newt replied, glancing back down at Min.  “Hannibal knows you tried to set him up.  He’s not too happy with you.  You should probably just cut your losses and leave town.”

She stared at him.  “How far do you expect me to get, wounded as I am?”

“Min, I don’t _care_.  I really don’t.  You can keel over the second you leave, I just want you gone.  Like, right now.  Before I change my mind.”

He didn’t have to tell her again.  She managed to pull herself to her feet, using the couch – and dripped blood all over it in the process, that was just _great_ – then staggered out to the balcony.  She didn’t jump over the railing so much as go falling over it, and Newt half-expected to see her splattered on the ground when he went out and peeked over the edge, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

Hermann walked up beside him, limping heavier than usual.  “Where did she…?”

“Dunno.  Doesn’t really matter, I guess.”

“Are you sure it was wise to let her go?”

He snorted.  “No.”  Glancing at Hermann, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Hermann nodded, still looking a bit rattled.

Newt inched closer and wrapped his arms around him.  “It’s been a long night.”

“That’s an understatement.”

They stood there on the balcony for awhile – Newt’s head on Hermann’s chest and Hermann’s arms around his shoulders.  Newt could feel the blood on his neck starting to get all dry and crusty.  On the bright side, he had never changed his shirt earlier, so he’d just bled more on an already bloody shirt instead of ruining another one.

“Hey,” Newt said.  “Did you still want that ice cream?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept waffling between whether or not Newt was going to kill Min, but ultimately I decided he couldn't do it. I mean, sure, he's probably more than physically capable of sawing her head off with a knife (which is what he was going to do), but I just couldn't see him *actually* doing it. Even if she did try to kill him. Twice.
> 
> Anyway, that's the last we'll be seeing of her. Probably.


	16. Chapter 16

Newton insisted on going back to work a couple days later, and Hermann had insisted on driving him there.  He wasn’t convinced that Min wasn’t going to pop out of the shadows and attack when they least expected it.  He kept expecting some new catastrophe, and the worst part was that he wasn’t sure if that feeling was ever going to go away.  He kept that thought to himself, however – Newton felt bad enough about everything that had transpired as it was.

“You really didn’t have to drive me to work, dude.”

“And you didn’t have to go to work so soon after _nearly dying_ , yet here we are.”

Newt sighed and gave him an long-suffering, but affectionate look.  “Hermann, I’m okay.  Super-fast vampire healing, remember?  I think I can handle a few hours of brewing coffee and dealing with impatient customers.”  He gave him a crooked grin.  “Unless you just want me all to yourself for a few more days.  I could _maybe_ be persuaded.”

Hermann rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious.”

“…You would do that?”

“Why not?  I mean, you’re not going back to work until next week, right?  We could go somewhere.”

“You can’t just neglect work and run off on some sort of spontaneous weekend getaway.”

The other man laughed.  “Dude, two seconds ago you were telling me I didn’t have to go back to work so soon.  Which is it?”  He laid his head back against his seat and sighed.  “Actually, y’know, I’m not feeling too great.  I think maybe I _do_ need more time off.”

“Really.”

“I’m feeling kind of faint.  I probably shouldn’t spend too much time on my feet.  If I do I might pass out in the middle of work or something, and next thing you know everyone’ll be talking about ‘that coffee shop where that dude keeled over in the middle of preparing so-and-so’s pumpkin spice latte that one time’ and Coyote Tango’s reputation would be ruined forever.  You know what?  It would be _irresponsible_ of me to go to work like this.”

“Yes, and you’re usually a perfect model of responsibility.”

“See?  You get what I’m saying.”

Hermann shook his head. 

“Come on, Hermann.  It might be nice to spend some time together and _not_ have it get interrupted by someone trying to kill either of us.”

That _did_ sound nice.

“Tell you what,” Newt continued.  “I’ll work today and see how things are going over there, and if it looks like they can get by without me for a little while longer, I’ll take the next couple of nights off and we’ll go somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I dunno, man.  Wherever you want.”  He grinned at him.  “You have some time to figure it out.”

~

After dropping Newton off, Hermann went home.  He hadn’t been there since the night of Newton’s accident.  Even the day he’d gone to work, he’d headed straight back to Newt’s apartment afterward.  It had only been a few days, really, but it felt more like weeks.  Or months.

He had two messages on his answering machine: one from the college, calling to confirm that he’d be back to work next week, and another from his father.  The first was to be expected, but the second gave him pause.  That was the second time in recent memory that his father had called, and he still wasn’t sure what had inspired the first call.  He wasn’t sure that he cared to know why he’d called a second time.  On some level, he knew he was being childish – it couldbe something important. 

He listened to the message from the college first, and made a mental note to call and let them know that he was, indeed, returning to work after the weekend.  Then, after several minutes of debating whether to listen to his father’s message or delete it, he decided to save it for later.  He didn’t want to ruin the weekend for himself.  He would deal with it when he got back from… wherever he was going.

He wasn’t exactly sure what Newton expected him to come up with – Hermann wasn’t very good at spontaneity.  He also found out he wasn’t very good at vacationing either, because without work to occupy him or Newt’s recent health issues to fuss over, he found himself sitting alone in his house with no idea what to do with himself.  He used to have hobbies, but he had spent so much of the past two years working himself ragged that he didn’t actually remember the last time he’d actually indulged any of them.

Eventually, he found himself staring at an old brochure about a popular tourist attraction that he’d obtained a couple years ago, back when he had still harbored some hope of having more free time than he actually ended up having.  It still sat on a dusty, forlorn corner of his desk.  He wasn’t sure if that was a testament to the fact that he needed to clean up around the house more often or the fact that he was more sentimental than he cared to admit.

~

His cell phone rang around ten o’clock and he answered it without looking up the book he’d been reading for the past hour.  “…Yes?”

“Hey, babe!  How’s it going?”

“It’s going fine.”

Newt snorted.  “Wow, that sounded really enthusiastic, dude.  Don’t go having _too_ much fun without me.  Did you decide what you wanted to do this weekend?”

“I did think of something.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s… probably not exactly what you had in mind.”  Some small corner of his brain was already chastising him for even bringing it up.  He loved Newton dearly, but of the various interests they had in common, this was – as far as he knew – not one of them.

“Hey, I told you we could do whatever you wanted, and I meant it.  Tell me.”

Hermann told him.

~

Early the next evening, Newton insisted on taking Hermann shopping before they did anything else.

“How about this one?”

“Newton, _no_.”

“What?  Why not?”

Hermann stared in horror at the garish sweater Newton was holding up to show him.  It was an eye-searing shade of green decorated with bright red silhouettes of reindeer and had “MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!” emblazoned in the middle of it in bright white lettering outlined with – was that glitter? – glinting all under the fluorescent lighting of the store.

“Oh come on, dude, it’s cute.”

“Absolutely not.  Newton, I have plenty of sweaters, and it’s not even _December_ yet.”

Newton rolled his eyes.  “It’s _almost_ December, dude, and yeah, you have enough sweaters to keep like five hundred people warm, but I bet you don’t have one like this.”

“That’s true, I don’t – and with good reason.  That thing is an abomination.”

“It is _not_.  Come on, Hermann, what’s wrong?  Is it too bright and cheerful for you?”  He shrugged and turned back around, rifling through the clothes rack.  “You know, I think I saw a darker one in here somewhere with ‘BAH HUMBUG’ on it that you’d probably love.”

“Newton, we are going to be _late_.”

“Yeah, and if we end up being late, it’s going to be _your_ fault, dude, not mine, because I’m not letting you leave this place without something to wear.”

“I do not need–“

“Hermann, the last time we had a date outdoors I could hear your teeth chattering.  Do you know how _cold_ it gets up in the hills at night?  I’m getting you something.  It’s going to happen.  Just let it happen.”  He wandered over to another rack.  “How about a jacket or something?  Something you can wear _over_ your horrible lifeless sweaters, since you’re so attached to them.  Oh!  Hey, look.”

“Newton–“

“It’s perfect.  Come here.”

“It is not _nearly_ cold enough to warrant a–“

It was too late, Newt had already walked over to him and was forcing the article of clothing onto him despite his protests.  Then suddenly Hermann couldn’t see.

“ _Newton_.”

“Oh my God, dude, it’s perfect.”

“I cannot _see_.”

“Well, okay, so the hood’s pretty huge, but… other than that, it’s perfect.  It’s big enough for _both_ of us!”

“Why does it _need_ to be big enough for both of us?”

He felt the other man’s arms slip inside the parka and snake around his waist.  “Because,” he breathed against Hermann’s neck, “it’s cozy.”

“…It is rather comfortable.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

Hermann wrapped his arms around Newton’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head.  “…I still can’t see.”

~

“I think I can see my apartment from here,” Newt said, swiveling the telescope around. 

“You’re supposed to be looking at the _sky_ , Newton.”

After catching the show in the planetarium, they had gone out to the terrace of the observatory where there were telescopes available for public use.  However, Newton seemed more interested in looking at the city in the distance than actually looking at the stars.

“Oh come on, Hermann.  It’s not like I’m spying on anyone, although…”  Newton raised an eyebrow, still peering through the telescope.  “I wonder if I could find Raiju with this thing.”

“Even if you could, I doubt you’d be able to make out any details.”

“Pfft.  Someone’s forgetting that I have amazing vampire vision.”  He grinned suddenly.  “Aha!  There it is!”

“Well?” Hermann sighed, exasperated.  “What do you see?”

“Uh.  Well, I can make out the sign, sort of.”

Hermann snorted.

“Okay, fine, so vampire eyesight has its limits.  I mean, I think I might see Hannibal’s shoes, but I’m pretty sure those things reflect enough light you could see them from orbit.”  He looked up and must have caught the irritated look on Hermann’s face, because he gave him a sheepish smile.  “Yeah, okay, stars.  Right.  You’re gonna have to help me out here, man, I don’t know much about this sort of thing.  What am I looking for?”

“The Orion Nebula.”

“Man, all these nebulas look the same to me.  I think you need to come a little closer and help me out.”

Hermann rolled his eyes heavenward.  “Really.”

“Really.”

Hermann came around and leaned over, helping to guide the telescope’s movements until Newt nodded enthusiastically.  “Wow, okay.  There it is.  This is pretty cool, dude.”  Newton looked up from the telescope and glanced at him.  “Are you having a good time?”

He shrugged noncommittally.

“You know, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t kill you to admit that you’re having fun.  Besides, you can’t fool me.  I see how googly eyed you get when you look at the sky and you think I’m not looking.”

Hermann felt the blood rush to his cheeks and ordinarily he would have hoped it was too dark outside for it to be noticeable, but even if he hadn’t had excellent night vision, Newton was uncannily observant when he wanted to be. 

“Aww, dude, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it.  You’re really into it, and that’s cool.  The world’s not gonna end just because Hermann Gottlieb relaxed for two seconds, you know.”

The corners of Hermann’s mouth twitched.  “It might.”

“Well,” Newton replied, peeking through the telescope again, “if the world did end, I could think of worse ways to go than nerding out over stars with my boyfriend.”

Hermann smiled and wrapped his arms around Newton’s waist and tugged him close.  He let out a startled squeak that was rather comical coming from a man who could snap bones like they were twigs and survived on a regular diet of blood. 

Newt relaxed against him as he enveloped him in his parka.  He made a happy noise and half-turned, nuzzling Hermann’s neck.  “See?  Cozy.”

“Newton.”

“Hmm?” he hummed, planting a soft kiss along Hermann’s jaw.

“I’m reasonably certain that the observatory staff won’t appreciate us making out like a pair of besotted teenagers on the terrace.”

“Well, you know,” the other man whispered, between kisses, each a bit more fervent than the last, “I’m pretty sure if you pull up that hood, no one’s gonna be able to tell what we’re actually doing under this thing.”

Hermann was scandalized.  He was even more scandalized when Newton’s hands reached around and grabbed his rear.  After a moment’s consideration, he pulled up the fuzzy hood of the parka and leaned forward just enough to discreetly pin Newton against the railing beside the telescope.  “You are a terrible influence on me,” he muttered.

He felt Newt grin against his skin.  “I am, I’m terrible.  I’m sorry.”

Hermann cupped Newton’s face in his hands and said in a tone that wasn’t nearly as disapproving as it probably should have been, “You’re not sorry at all.”

Newt’s eyes glinted with mischief and the tips of his fangs were visible when he spoke.  “Yeah, no, I’m not.”

Hermann kissed him, and the two of them did proceed to make out on the terrace for an impressive amount of time before someone finally caught on to what they were up to – apparently the parka wasn’t as inconspicuous as they had hoped – and shooed them away, but by then they were more than ready to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I left a couple things hanging. I mean, we never did find out if Coyote Tango was going to survive the decline in its popularity. We never did find out why Hermann's father kept calling him. We also never found out for sure why Min suddenly decided working for Hannibal wasn't a good career choice anymore.
> 
> My god, it's almost like someone is leaving these things dangling for some future sinister purpose. WEIRD.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who stuck with me throughout the whole thing! I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, considering it was my first AU *and* my first chaptered fic! <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Way to Fix It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108300) by [bravinto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/pseuds/bravinto)




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